


Across an Empty Land

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Past Blaine Anderson/Tina Cohen-Chang - Freeform, Past Kurt Hummel/Quinn Fabray, References to bullying, Straight Klaine, klaine endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: Glee club is certainly not Kurt's idea of a good time, and having to sing a duet doesn't make it any more appealing. Blaine's firm insistence on school assignments being important doesn't really help either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings for severely ill side character and mention of a previous off-screen minor character death.
> 
> Kurt and Blaine assume they're straight at the beginning, and there are instances/mentions of them having sex with girls. Other than that . . . well, I've wanted to write a longer skank!Kurt/nerd!Blaine fic forever and this is it.
> 
> Thanks to [klainebowsanddramioneflies](http://klainebowsanddramioneflies.tumblr.com/) for the awesome cover!
> 
> And thanks to [mailroomorder](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mailroomorder/pseuds/mailroomorder) for betaing the hell out of this, listening to my constant babbling about everything, and saving this from landing in the bin more than once.
> 
> Finally, so many thanks to [Cate](http://bluecloudsupabove.tumblr.com/) for the additional art within the fic.

“We can't do this anymore.”

Kurt turns his head and looks over at her, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Quinn is still as naked as he is, their shoulders touching as they're lying next to each other.

“This,” she says. Her face calm, apologetic in the cool light of the battery powered lamp dangling from the ceiling of the old camper. “What we're doing. We can't, anymore.”

“Oh.” He needs a moment to think about it. He can still feel his skin humming with what they just did. His breathing's still going fast. So is hers. “You mean -”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“And you thought you'd wait to tell me this until after we had sex.”

“Sorry,” she says, not sounding all that sorry at all. “I didn't think you'd mind.”

He's quiet for a while. He's not sure that he does mind. Much. It's not like they were dating or anything. But they're friends, for lack of a better word. And it's just . . . “We've been doing this for months,” he points out. “What changed?”

She shrugs. “Met someone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Someone serious?”

“Could be.”

“Someone I know?”

She looks back at him, pink, sweaty hair clinging to her temples, the grin small and crooked on her face. “Are you actually jealous?”

He thinks maybe he should be. He thinks maybe someone else would be. She's his friend. And he got to have sex on a regular basis. He feels regret for losing this. But is he jealous? “No,” he says. “I'm not.”

“Good,” she says. “And no, you don't know him. At least I don't think you do. He doesn't go to McKinley.”

“What's his name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Guess it doesn't.”

“Richard,” she says. “His name is Richard.”

“Do you call him Dick?”

She punches him in the shoulder. “Don't be an ass. He's nice.”

“I'm allowed to be a little annoyed right now. You did just dump me, you know?” he points out. “For a guy named Dick.”

“Richard.”

“Same difference.”

She looks over at him. “For what it's worth, I really am sorry.”

“It's okay. It's not like we were dating or anything.”

“Are we still friends?”

It's his turn to shrug. “Sure.”

“Good.”

“We should . . . go. I guess.”

She nods, and he grabs for his discarded briefs as she pulls on her panties and pats the floor next to the lumpy old fold-out bed for her bra. He watches her as he gets dressed. He knows she's beautiful. He's always known she's beautiful.

Despite everything, it hurts being dumped like it's no big deal. Like he's just not needed anymore. It stings, not being needed, having outlived his usefulness. But it's just hurt he feels, for being replaced with someone better. He wonders why that is. He wonders why he doesn't feel sadder about this.

Well. They were always friends first. Everything else was never meant to be more than temporary.

He really feels like he wants to do something stupid. If even his best friend can just cast him aside, what does it matter if he fucks up his life? They all expect him to do just that anyway.

Maybe he should just go home instead.

**

Blaine opens the door with a wide smile, the familiar sight of Tina on the other side lifting his spirits even more. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She steps forward and he kisses her, a quick kiss on the lips before he closes the door behind her.

“Your timing is perfect.”

“Huh?” She looks at him over her shoulder as she's hanging up her coat.

“Mom just left. The house is ours.”

For some reason she doesn't look as enthused as he feels. “Oh. Yeah. Cool.”

“Is everything all right?” he asks, hugging her to his side as they walk through the foyer into the living room where he's set out snacks for them and fluffed the pillows the way she likes when they make out on the couch.

Tina hesitates. “Blaine,” she says. “I – Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He nods, sitting down on the couch. “What's up?”

She sits down on a different couch cushion, leaving space between them, turning a little sideways to face him. For a long moment, she's quiet. “This is difficult,” she finally says.

Blaine feels his stomach sinking. “Tay-tay, what's wrong?”

“Look,” she says. “I've been thinking about this. And . . . I think that maybe you've felt it, too. Haven't you?”

“Felt what?”

“I mean,” she says, “do you really think this is working?”

“What is working?” he asks, panic rising in his chest.

Tina sighs, and she's not smiling at him the way she usually is. “I think we should break up.”

Blaine shakes his head. And then he just keeps shaking it, refusing to understand. “No.”

“I just think this isn't going well. You know it isn't, Blaine.”

“But it is,” he argues. “It is. It's going great! We're – do you – wait. Is this because of last Saturday? Because I know you said it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big deal, wasn't it? Tina, I swear, I don't know what happened, it's never happened before, you know it hasn't, I just – I'm so sorry, I wanted to, I swear I did, I really, really -”

“Blaineydays,” she says, reaching forward to take his trembling hands into her own. “It's not because of that. It's . . . well, it's not _only_ because of that. But I think what happened – or didn't happen – don't you think it's a symptom of what's wrong between us?”

“It isn't,” Blaine promises. “I don't know why I, I . . . I wanted to. I did. I – I wanted to.”

“I don't think you did,” she says. “And that's okay, you know? You don't have to. It's okay if you don't want to. I mean, of course it is. It's just . . . I sometimes got the feeling that even when we were together, you didn't really want that.”

“But I did.” Blaine holds on to her hands, looks at her through the rising despair in his chest, willing her to believe him. “Tina, I did. I did. Of course I did. I love you.”

“Oh, Blaineybear,” she says, and she sounds sad. “I love you too. You know I do. But maybe – maybe we just don't love each other . . . you know, like _that_?”

Tears are burning behind his eyes and he knows his voice is shaking. “Don't do this, Tina. Please. Don't do this. We can work on it. It's gonna get better!”

“This is the best thing for both of us,” she tells him, even though her voice sounds unsteady too. It breaks his heart. “Blaine, you're a great boyfriend. The best boyfriend in the world. And I love you. I really do, you have to believe me. But you never even touch my boobs unless I outright ask you to. Not once. Not even by accident. Especially not by accident.”

“I can touch your boobs more,” he says desperately. “If you want me to, I can touch your boobs as much as you need me to, I -”

“But that's the problem,” Tina explains, her smile sad and wobbly. “ _You_ should want to. And I don't think you do. And I kind of want a boyfriend who does. I kind of want a boyfriend who thinks I'm sexy. Who doesn't just touch me because I ask him to. I want you to want to. And you, well, you just don't.”

“I do,” he tries again. “I love you.”

“I believe you,” she says. “But I just don't think we're . . . compatible that way. It's okay. Some people just aren't.”

He's crying now, he can't help it. “I'm sorry,” he says. “I can try harder. I'm sorry. Please don't do this.”

“I'm sorry too,” she says, and her eyes look red as well. “But I don't want you to try harder. I don't want you to be anyone you're not, just for me. You have to be who you are. I can't change you and even if I could . . . I love you the way you are. But I have to be who I am too, and I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry. This is just what's best for both of us.”

He doesn't think it is, but he doesn't resist when she pulls her hands out of his. She wipes her eyes, gets up off the couch.

He doesn't look up as he hears her sniffling, instead he buries his own face in his hands, slumping over. It feels like his heart has just been ripped out.

“I should go,” Tina says. He doesn't answer. There isn't any point – Tina is already up and off the couch before he can even think of any other words he could tell her, anything he could say to make her believe he's willing to try harder.

Her footsteps retreat over the carpet of the living room floor and he stupidly thinks that they never even got to touch the cookie plate and the tea he made them. Like any of that matters now.

Her voice comes from the direction of the foyer, and he blinks over his fingers to where she's standing in the open doorway. “I hope we can still be friends,” she says, sounding hoarse, her eyes red-rimmed. “I do love you, Blaineydays.”

The sob hurts as it rips its way from his chest and he bends over, cries into his folded arms, and a few seconds later he hears the front door click shut.

This is what being dumped feels like.

It feels a bit like dying.

**

Kurt is sitting across from principal Sylvester, doing his best to look bored. She's making it difficult, though. She's . . . well, the only word for it is 'infuriating.'

“Look,” he explains for the tenth time. “Those gorillas shoved me first. I was merely defending myself. I think I am allowed to stop them from killing me, can we at least agree on that?”

Sue heaves a sigh, tapping the fingers of one hand against her desk thoughtfully. “If they had killed you it would have at least spared me the trouble of deciding what to do with you now.”

He rolls his eyes at her. This is such a waste of both of their time. “Okay, I can't stop you from giving me detention, but I think it's a bit harsh to be punished for self-defense. I didn't do anything wrong.”

Sue fixes him with a firm look. “One of those . . . _gorillas_ , as you call them, broke a finger when you shoved back and slammed him into a locker. You'll agree that I cannot let that slide, no matter how justified the shove might have been.”

Kurt shrugs. “My entire freshman and sophomore year those same idiots shoved me all the time. I had one concussion, one fractured wrist, a sprained ankle, a cracked rib, _two_ broken fingers, and more bruises than I can count. I needed stitches after they almost cracked my head open throwing me into a dumpster. You and your precious predecessor Figgins never did a thing to punish any of them for that. Everyone pretended it wasn't happening. I showed up to French class with blood down my shirt after they gave me a nosebleed and I was the one who got detention for being late and scaring the other students. Please tell me again how that's fair?”

Sue nods. “Figgins was inefficient and incompetent, I'm not arguing with you. But since last year, most complaints from other students have been about you and your socially challenged juvenile delinquent girlfriend. You can't argue with that either.”

“What have they complained about? Us leaving them alone all the time?”

“Most complaints were about Ms Fabray stealing people's lunch money to buy cigarettes.”

“That was her, not me. And she hasn't done that for a long time, _and_ she's sorry about it.”

“You had nothing to do with your girlfriend's activities?”

“She's not my girlfriend anymore.” He doesn't know why he's telling Sue this. He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth.

“Well, I'm truly heartbroken to hear that,” Sue says in a completely flat voice. “I still can't let you break a student's finger and let you go free.”

He groans. “So, what's the punishment for saving my own life these days? Are you gonna lock me up? Is that what you're gonna do?”

“Worse,” she says. “You'll be getting detention, because you already asked for it.”

“I certainly didn't -”

“But -” she holds up a hand to silence him. “I don't think sitting you in a room and have you doing nothing after class will do you any good. I have considered the possibility of making you write _I will not piss off principal Sue_ one thousand times, but somehow I think that won't be having quite the desired educative effect. So. Instead, you'll be making an effort to re-integrate yourself into the school community. From now on until the end of the school year, you'll be joining the glee club, which just so happens to be missing a member in order to qualify for their little show choir competitions. Fail to show up to practices and we'll have to talk about suspension, or expulsion, depending on what else you get onto your record by then.”

Kurt gapes at her. “Until the end of the _school year_? The school year that just started like, a week ago?”

“Can't make you go any longer, since you'll be graduating after that, unless you do manage to get yourself expelled before then.”

He feels petulant, but he can't hold the words back. “You can't make me actually sing with those weirdos. You don't even know if I suck at singing. Are you gonna expel me for that too? For sucking?”

Sue waves a hand. “Nah. That's Schuester's problem. Although it would probably make them lose their competitions this year.”

Kurt's not sure if he's imagining it, but she sounds happy about that fact. “So . . . I'll just have to go? Even if I just sit in the back?”

“Feel free to give them the full pleasure of your colorful personality,” Sue says. “In fact, I insist upon you doing just that. You'll be participating. That's the whole point. You'll be a part of the club, whether you suck at it or not. I don't give a rat's tushi.”

Kurt stares at her, but she already seems to be busy measuring protein powder into a huge blender bottle. “Um,” he says.

She looks up, a little irritated. “Why are you still here? We're done. Go, go! Oh, and glee club meets this afternoon. You better be there or our deal is off.”

Kurt stares for another minute, but she's already gone back to her protein powder. He pushes himself out of his chair, gathers up his bag, and walks out of her office.

He has no idea what just happened. But he's pretty sure he doesn't like it. Not one bit.

**

For the first time since freshman year, Blaine is not looking forward to glee club at all. It used to be his favorite part of school, their glee practices. He loves to sing. All of his friends are from glee club. He has a few friends in the superhero club as well, but apart from Sam who's also in glee club, he doesn't count them as close friends. Not the kinds of friends he meets up with after school to hang out. In glee club, he has Sam and he has Rachel's occasional weird parties in her basement, and he's even hung out with Mike a few times.

And he used to have Tina. His best friend since their first day of high school, his girlfriend since sophomore year. Almost two years they'd been together. Almost two years and she breaks up with him just weeks before their anniversary. An anniversary he'd been planning for months, by the way. He'd had so many ideas for serenades and a romantic dinner, and he's been saving up so long for the bracelet he wanted to give her. He can forget about all of that now. He'd been looking forward to it, and now it's simply not going to happen. And all because of that one afternoon in his house. It had been mortifying enough for him. He understands it had been frustrating for her, too. But being broken up with because . . . well, because of this one thing makes him feel like even more of a freak than he'd already been before.

He doesn't understand what his problem is. But maybe Tina is right. Maybe she does deserve better. Maybe he had this coming all along. Maybe they were never meant to be, because he's a fucking weirdo who has something seriously wrong with him.

Still, he feels like crap. His head hurts, probably because he's still dehydrated from the crying he did the day before. He doesn't really cry much, but these are special circumstances. He doesn't have a girlfriend anymore. He's never felt more alone in his life.

He drags his feet walking to the choir room, his body feeling heavy and awkward, his throat feeling much too raw to even consider singing. Maybe he'll get away with just moving his lips in the background. No one usually pays him that much attention anyway.

Pretty much everyone is already there by the time he arrives, and his usual seat beside Tina is unoccupied. Blaine isn't quite sure if he's still allowed to sit there now and he doesn't want to make things any more awkward than they already are. He swallows heavily. Tina looks up, and she's not smiling. She looks sad. Blaine can't deal with her sadness today. And he doesn't think that's his job anymore. Not as a boyfriend, anyway. And maybe it makes him a sucky friends, but he just . . . he's just so tired today.

So he takes a breath and walks past her, up to the back row, sinks into an empty seat there, a little apart from everyone.

He can't skip glee club. But he can't really interact with anyone either.

Sam, sweet, loyal Sam, cranes his neck to see into the back row, frowns at Blaine, then abandons his own seat to join him.

“Dude,” he says in a loud, unsubtle whisper that can probably be heard all the way in Cleveland. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Blaine nods, flickers a smile at his friend. “I'm fine.”

Sam doesn't look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I'm sure.”

“Okay.”

Blaine hopes Sam will leave and go back to his usual seat on Tina's other side, but he doesn't. He stays right there beside Blaine, sitting a little closer than is strictly normal between bros. Blaine sighs, but can't bring himself to be annoyed – Sam is as blundering and awkward as they come, but he has an extremely fine-tuned sixth sense for other people's emotions. And he'll never let a friend suffer silently, he'll never turn his back on anyone. Blaine loves that about him. Usually. Right now, though, all he wants is some alone time.

Everyone's gathered and Mr. Schue claps his hands together, opens his mouth to start saying, “Okay, guys, our 80s week was so much fun I thought we could just -” when he's cut off by the door swinging open and a guy walking in.

A guy with bright pink streaks in his carefully styled hair and a piercing in his left eyebrow. He's dressed in a red plaid shirt, unbuttoned to show a retro-looking T-shirt with Madonna's face on the front, tight, black jeans and, on his feet, a pair of heavy black boots that make loud clonking noises as he strides across the choir room without acknowledging any of them. Reaching a chair a little way away from all of them he lets his heavy messenger bag covered in buttons and patches drop to the floor and throws himself into the chair which skids backwards a few inches due to the impact. And there he stays, sitting with his arms crossed and legs spread, looking entirely bored, entirely disinterested in his surroundings.

“Um, hello?” Mr. Schue says. It sounds like a question.

“Yeah, hi,” the guy says, giving Mr. Schue a stern, assessing look that Blaine thinks would have made him cringe if it had been directed at him.

He knows the guy. Well. He doesn't really _know_ him. But he knows who he is. Kurt Hummel. Hangs out under the bleachers a lot. Gets into trouble. Doesn't really talk to anyone except Quinn Fabray, who's his girlfriend. Quinn Fabray who used to be in glee club with Blaine until sophomore year when she got pregnant and came back to school entirely changed. Kurt's not the one who knocked her up, but there are rumors that he did knock up two college girls in one month when he was still a freshman. Blaine never thought that particular rumor was true. He's not sure about the rumor that Kurt spent two months in juvie the summer before sophomore year because he got into a knife fight in a 7-Eleven parking lot over a stolen case of beer. But what he is sure about is that Kurt Hummel is not someone you ever want to mess with. 

And Kurt Hummel is not someone who would be caught dead in glee club.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Schue asks.

Kurt shrugs. “Principal Sylvester sent me. This is my,” he smirks, makes finger quotes in the air, “ _detention_. So. Here I am.” He waves a hand. “Go on. Don't let me stop you from your – uh –  <7>singing.”

Mr. Schue looks entirely nonplussed. “She sent you to me?”

“Yup.”

“To . . . serve your detention here?”

“Oh. No. I think I'm supposed to join for real. She said until the end of the school year.”

“You . . . Okay. Okay.” Mr. Schue is nodding, bobbing his head like one of those dashboard dolls. “Great. Okay. You see, the thing is, we usually have auditions -”

“You'll have to take that up with Principal Sue,” Kurt says, then digs his phone out of his pocket, unlocks the screen, and starts typing something, signaling clearly that this conversation is over.

“Okay,” Mr. Schue says again, either not picking up on Kurt's dismissal or ignoring it. “Well, we actually do need another member. So, this could work out great for all of us. Would you – would you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?”

“Nope,” Kurt says, still typing away on his phone.

Mr. Schue takes a patient step forward as if approaching an untamed wolf. “Look, if you're meant to be joining us, we'll have to know what to call you. It would also really help if we knew you could sing? That's kind of what we do here, you know?”

Kurt sighs, and finally looks up from his phone. “Name's Kurt. And yeah, I guess I can sing.”

“Hi, Kurt,” Mr. Schue says, offering his most encouraging smile. “Welcome to the glee club. Would you like to show us what you can do? The band can play anything . . .”

“No,” Kurt says.

At this point, even Mr. Schue starts looking slightly exasperated. “All right, fine,” he says, sighing loudly. “We'll talk about this again later -”

“No, we won't.”

“- but for now we actually have a practice to get back to. So.” He turns back to the rest of the group, his mouth set in a thin line even though he's obviously trying to smile. “As I was saying earlier. 80s week . . .”

Blaine only half listens to Mr. Schue drone on about what 80s groups they haven't covered yet. Instead, he watches their newest addition out of the corner of his eyes.

Kurt.

He has a slightly dangerous look about him. Something about the set of his jaw and the tension in his body. He's . . . different. But Blaine doesn't think he's as bad as everyone says he is. In fact, he knows he isn't.

One time at the beginning of junior year, a bunch of football jocks cornered Blaine against a row of lockers and started pushing him around, laughing and grabbing him hard enough to leave bruises, knocking his binder to the floor and scattering his papers about. He'd been scared. Really scared.

But then someone had pulled them off of him, shoved them, and cursed at them until they left.

Not just _someone_.

Kurt.

Blaine remembers thanking him, so grateful that nothing worse had happened. He remembers Kurt rolling his eyes at him, scoffing like it was nothing, and walking off.

They haven't spoken since then. Kurt's never even looked at him again. Blaine can't believe he'd almost forgotten. But he remembers now. It was after that incident that Blaine had started taking boxing lessons, all through junior year. He makes a mental note to go back to the gym again sometime soon – he can't risk losing all of his hard-earned skills.

Kurt is sitting there, not paying attention, obviously not wanting to be here.

Blaine, who's still feeling awful and unbearably sad about Tina, finds that he can't stop watching him.

He's not sure how he feels about all of this.

**

Kurt sits in the back all through his first glee practice and just watches. He's well aware that this is probably not going to work forever, just staying out of it. Eventually, even Mr. Schue's patience will run out. And he thinks Sue actually did mean for him to participate when she made the deal with him – once word gets out to her that he's not cooperating she'll have another talk with him, and he kind of really could do without that.

Sue's always been strangely lenient with him, though. He's fairly confident that she won't expel him just yet. She didn't expel him for smoking pot under the bleachers with Quinn a year ago. Then there were those two months sophomore year he doesn't like to think about, when things were shit and she convinced Figgins to go easy on him. She wasn't exactly nice to him either, but she did stand up for him. And when he skipped almost two weeks of junior year for personal reasons, she made him do dry cleaning runs for the Cheerios and polish her numerous trophies that fill up her office and her own house in lieu of the out of school suspension that he should have gotten. Sometimes he almost thinks that Sue likes him, that she's looking out for him in her own weird way. But the thought is so very strange that he always discards it immediately – Sue likes no one but herself.

Still, he doesn't want to piss her off any more than he already has.

Once glee club is over, Kurt slings his bag over his shoulder and is the first one out of the door before anyone can even get the idea of talking to him.

Seriously. Glee club? Of all the places she could have put him?

His old mini-camper sputters and whines as he tries to start it, but on the fifth try the engine finally coughs and rumbles into life. It's a fucking piece of crap but he'll drive it until it falls apart – an old 1982 VW Vanagon Westfalia, a tiny old camper that's definitely seen better days. The dark brownish-orange paint is chipping in places and rusting in others. He'll have to save up for a repainting. But he won't ever give up this car. He got it cheap from a guy who was gonna trash it. His dad saw the ad in the newspaper. Kurt had still only been fifteen at the time, but they'd bought it with the plan of rebuilding the engine together and cleaning up the interior. It was all carefully planned, to be finished as soon as Kurt was old enough to drive. They never got around to it, but Kurt's driving it anyway. He loves this car.

He'll have to drive it by his dad's old garage and have a look at it later. He still has certain privileges there – his dad still owns the place, after all. And if he wants to get this rust bucket through the next inspection, he'll have to fix it up a bit soon.

When he gets home, Carole's already at work and Finn's . . . somewhere; they don't keep track of each other's movements. Kurt knows Finn doesn't approve of his life choices. And Kurt doesn't approve of the way Finn's friends treat other people.

He saw one of their old victims in glee club today. He recognized him right away. Smallish dude, wears his hair glued to his head like a helmet, dresses like an eighty-year-old with his sweater vests and bow ties. Blake or something. Kurt remembers once pulling four gorillas off of him when they were using him as a punching bag. Blake had acted like it was some great, heroic act. It had embarrassed the hell out of Kurt, all this smiling, sputtering gratefulness. He hadn't done it for praise and gratitude. He just doesn't like bullies, that's all. If everyone could just worry about their own affairs and stop caring about other people, everything would be so much easier.

There's a note pinned to the door of the fridge. Carole hasn't yet figured out texting.

_There's a casserole in the oven. Enough for both of you. See you tomorrow._

She's drawn a little heart under it. Kurt looks away, throat tight with anger at the pretend normalcy of all of this. He's so fucking tired of pretending sometimes.

He opens the oven door and peers inside. Then he closes it, turns on the oven to heat up his food, and sinks into a chair at the table, staring straight ahead and trying not to think.

If it hadn't been for glee club he'd have gone by the hospital this afternoon. But he isn't in the mood now. And he doesn't want to make his dad worry about him. His dad worries enough as it is, and he's supposed to maintain a positive attitude, for whatever good that's going to do.

Kurt knows that the main reason his dad worries is him.

He can't even be a good son. He wants to be, but . . . he still has to survive school every day. He still has to live in this house with people who act like they have every right to be as affected by all of this as he is.

He gets up again, paces out into the hallway and back into the kitchen, kicks a chair leg hard enough to make the chair skid across the tiles and hit the counter.

He wants to slam his fist through a closed cupboard door.

Instead, he turns off the oven again and leaves the entire casserole for Finn. It's not like Finn won't manage to eat it all. He grabs his keys and heads back out. The garage is still open so he can at least have them look at his stupid car – he'll fix what he can by himself but he's still not a trained mechanic. He just needs to do _something_. Just something. Just so he doesn't have to sit here and have all this time to think.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Schue tries to get him to audition again the next glee practice. And the one after that. And the one after that. Kurt adamantly refuses. He's going along with this childish nonsense, making a fool of himself just by being here. He's not going to stand up in front of them and sing them a song, like a kindergartner.

He does, however, let Schue persuade him to stand in the background and move his lips when the rest of them sing. He feels ridiculous. But he really doesn't want to give Sue any reason to suspend or expel him. He can't be the good son he needs to be, but he can't risk killing his dad.

Carole took the call from Sue after Kurt broke that football idiot's finger in the hallway. Luckily, she agreed with Kurt to keep this between them. But if he got kicked out of school, there would be no way to keep that a secret as well. He can't risk it.

Having Carole on his side is worth a lot. Sometimes he wishes he'd get along with her better, and he doesn't even know why he can't. It's not her fault. She cares about him, takes care of him as much as she takes care of her own son. And ever since his dad got sick she's been there for all of them, through everything. It can't be easy for her. But Kurt thinks her caretaker role is the biggest reason for his resentment toward her. It's his job to take care of his dad. It's been his job for so long. They've always been there for each other and supported each other, and he has a hard time handing some of that responsibility, and with it some of the decisions to be made, off to Carole. It's his fault, not hers. But it's difficult.

And now he can't even do this right, being a part of this club and not risk giving his father another reason to worry about him.

It's just . . . this club is a mess and it makes him uncomfortable. 

It's not even the individual people he has a problem with. Santana and Brittany are sort of entertaining. And Brittany keeps smiling at him, which is okay coming from her – they have . . . history, and he likes that she never feels the need to 'talk' about it. Mercedes has an amazing voice yet never seems to be allowed to sing solos. There's that guy Mike who's an amazing dancer and yet is always put in the back. Sam insists on smiling at Kurt and asking him how he's doing and it unsettles him a bit. Sweater vest guy, who's actually called Blaine and not Blake, keeps smiling at him too, and Kurt always looks away because he knows it's just because of The Incident a year ago. He doesn't want his gratitude. Also, there's some kind of weird tension between Blaine and Tina, and everyone seems to know what's going on and is doing their best to make it worse by pushing them to sing together and sit next to each other. He doesn't have a problem with any of them, but he just doesn't get them. And he doesn't even want to.

It's been over two weeks of glee practice, of standing in the back and acting like an idiot four times a week, of not talking to anyone and hurrying out once they're done, when on a Friday afternoon he finds his exit blocked by a tiny, stern-looking person in white tights and a garish yellow dress. She has her hands on her hips and is glaring at him.

“Can I help you?” he asks. He remembers when Rachel was dating Finn, before Finn quit glee club in favor of football and she broke up with him. He's not exactly fond of her.

“It's time we had a talk,” she says.

“No, it isn't.”

People are squeezing their way past them to move out of the room, apparently in a bit of a hurry. He supposes they know Rachel's flair for the dramatic as well as he does and don't want to stick around for this.

“If you're not taking this club seriously, I don't think you should be here,” she tells him. “This is my senior year and I need – I mean, we need to make it to Nationals. I can't risk you dragging us down with your attitude, do you even -”

“Sorry, but you really have the wrong person here,” he interrupts her. “If you want me out, you'll have to take it up with Principal Sylvester.”

“Glee club can be fun, you know?” a voice speaks up behind them, and Kurt looks back over his shoulder. Blake – no, _Blaine_ is still there, the last of the glee clubbers except Rachel still sticking around. Even Mr. Schue has fled the scene, letting Rachel give him a talking to as his trusted deputy.

“I'm not into singing, thanks,” Kurt says coldly. “I can't help it if Ms. Sylvester's idea of creative punishment interferes with your competition season. But really, I'm the wrong person to complain to here.”

“You could make an effort,” Rachel tells him, stabbing a finger at his chest. “We're all stuck in this situation together now and we have to -”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “No, we're not. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be somewhere else.” He pushes past her, doing his best not to look as if he's running away.

He's not even made it around the corner when he hears footsteps hurrying after him. He sighs, squeezes his eyes shut, keeps walking without slowing down.

“I'm sorry about Rachel,” Blaine's voice pants after him, and then he's right there walking beside him, an apologetic look on his face. “She could have handled that differently. It's just that -”

“Blake,” Kurt says, getting his name wrong on purpose. “I really do have to be somewhere else. So. Bye now.”

Blaine looks stunned, a little hurt. “Oh,” he says. “Yeah. No. Of course. Okay.”

Kurt wishes his stomach weren't feeling so heavy as he speeds up his steps toward the exit. But he hasn't been to the hospital in days and he doesn't need any more things to be feeling awful about.

**

“Hi, dad.”

“Hey, buddy. How's it goin'?”

Kurt walks over to the bed, forces a smile onto his face. It's a difficult thing, hugging his dad these days. There's wires, needles, machines and stuff attached to his body almost constantly, and also, it just feels weird. His father has been thin for a while now, but it still doesn't feel right. “Fine. How are you?”

“I'm good.” His dad laughs. It sounds tired. “You know me. Just wishing the food was better.”

Kurt pulls back from the hug and grabs a chair to sit down. His dad hasn't been able to eat right for a long time now – a side effect of the treatment. He wishes they could be honest with each other. He wishes his dad wouldn't try playing the tough guy just once. He does it to stop Kurt from worrying. But all it does is worry him even more. He doesn't know when they stopped telling each other the truth.

“I went by the garage the other day,” he says. “Ray says hello.”

“How're they doing down there?” his dad wants to know, and Kurt launches into a retelling of his recent visit, relaying all the messages from his dad's old employees.

“Was your camper making trouble again?” his dad interrupts in the middle of his story. “I dunno why you insist on driving that piece of crap.”

“I like it,” Kurt says. “And no, I wasn't down there because of the car that day. It's been running smooth since I fixed the engine two weeks ago. I was just . . . having a look around. You know. Making sure it was all going okay.”

“I appreciate you takin' care of the garage,” his dad says, smiling at him. “Don't know what I'd do without you.”

“You'd be fine, dad.”

“No. You're a good kid, Kurt. A good person. And I'm real proud of you. I hope you know that.” He reaches for Kurt's hand and Kurt lets him take it, squeezes back.

And he feels awful. So, so awful.

“So, Carole tells me you've joined the glee club?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It – I – it was sort of . . . a requirement. I – needed to join something. And – yeah.”

“You always used to like singing. Weren't you thinking about joining a couple years ago? You havin' fun there?”

“Yes, dad.” He does his best to smile. “Yes, I'm having fun.”

“Good.” His dad lies back against the pillows. “You deserve some fun, kid. I'm glad you're getting out there, doing something.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it's . . . good. It's good.”

His dad smiles, and Kurt gets out the stack of cards he brought along for this afternoon. They play poker until his dad gets too tired.

Kurt stays until his dad falls asleep, holds his hand the entire time.

**

Blaine finds himself settling into a new routine now that he's single again for the first time in two years. He's not sure he likes it, but he's getting used to it.

Every morning he meets Sam out front of the school and they walk in together. They don't share a whole lot of classes, but their lockers are close together and they talk and make plans on their way there.

He goes through the motions in his classes, manages to keep his grades up even though he still feels a bit unsettled.

He shares a lunch period with Sam and Tina and they still all sit together – they've agreed to all stay friends even if it's difficult. But Tina has been his friend since freshman year. They can't let this destroy them. Blaine thinks they're both aware that Sam is the glue that holds them together. But Sam is doing a good job of it, steering their conversations so that they hardly have to exchange two words with each other.

And Blaine has glee club and his superhero club to keep his thoughts occupied, and after school Sam's always there, coming over to his house to play video games or read comics and a few times he even watches the weird historical documentaries Blaine likes.

His life is good. It used to be better, but it's still good. He's coping. And he thinks he's doing a good job of it. He misses Tina like a severed limb, but he supposes he'll get over it eventually. It doesn't help having to hang out with her all the time. But it seems better than the alternative.

Sam is waiting for him at the edge of the parking lot, just like always when Blaine exits his car.

“Dude!” Sam calls in lieu of a greeting. “I read that thing you sent me last night. And like, this is a thing? There's more of that on the internet?”

Blaine laughs, shaking his head at his best friend as they start walking toward the school side by side. “You've seriously never heard of fanfiction before?”

Sam bounces beside him. “No! But this is awesome! And, like, anyone can write this?”

“Sure.”

“Do you write it too?”

“Nah.” Blaine shrugs. “Just read it. But it's fun, right?”

Sam nods enthusiastically. “I've bookmarked a few for superhero club tomorrow. To share with the others!”

Blaine laughs and for the first time in weeks he's feeling truly light and carefree. Maybe, he thinks, he's finally getting over his break up. Maybe.

It's easier, paying attention in class today. He raises his hand a few times because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to in order to maintain his grade point average. Lunch is as weird as always, but Sam's still talking a mile a minute about the whole new world he discovered on the internet, so Blaine can mostly hide behind his juice box and let the conversation happen around him. At one point, when Sam gestures so enthusiastically he sends one of his ravioli flying through the cafeteria, hitting the back of an empty chair with a wet smacking sound, Blaine even shares a small smile with Tina. It lasts for a fraction of a second and gives him a little stab through his heart, but it also feels like progress. In a way.

Glee club is the best thing about his day, as usual. He doesn't get a lot of solos since they usually all go to Rachel, but still. It's singing. And he loves singing. And it's Monday. Mr. Schue promised they'd do duets over the next few weeks and Blaine expects they'll be paired off today. As long as he doesn't get Tina, he's really looking forward to this. Duets are awesome. And he likes everyone in glee club. He can work with all of them. Maybe he'll be lucky and get Sam.

He's in his seat, his bag stowed away under his chair, when he sees Kurt enter the room. Kurt who strides across the floor and flings himself into his chair the way he always does, his pink-streaked hair flopping a little. He looks even angrier than usual today. Blaine wonders what it is that's constantly pissing him off like this.

The thought occurs to him that he might be partnered with Kurt for the duet. He swallows. On the upside, that would effectively give him the chance to sing a solo because he doubts he could get Kurt to sing with him. But that would also mean missing the point of the assignment and Blaine doesn't like disappointing his teachers.

“I hope I get Mercedes,” Sam whispers to him. Blaine smiles. He knows Sam's been harboring a fierce, persistent crush on Mercedes for months now, but she has a boyfriend and Sam's too good of a guy to ever try and get between them. But a glee club duet . . . that seems pretty harmless. He hopes for his friend that it will all work out in his favor. Even if that would mean he'd have to sing with someone else. But, yeah. He likes all of these people. Maybe not Kurt. But that's just because he doesn't know him. He doesn't _dislike_ him either. Besides. What are the chances of them being paired together?

**

“Duets!” Mr. Schue exclaims loudly and happily, grinning like this is the best thing that's ever happened to any of them.

To Kurt's astonishment, the rest of the club seems to agree – they're cheering and dancing in their seats and he really, really doesn't get these people. At all.

“Now!” Schuester holds up a hand, grins mysteriously. “I let you choose your partners last time, but we're going to make it more interesting this time around. We've seen some great results every time we let chance decide. I think it really gives you an opportunity to step outside your comfort zones and grow closer as a team in the process.”

Kurt looks around almost curiously. The majority of these weirdos are still smiling, looking excited at this dreadful hippie talk.

“So,” Mr. Schue says. “I've written all of your names on these slips of paper -” He holds up a crumpled bunch of Post-Its, “And we'll pull two at a time out of this hat.” He pulls an actual top hat out of a gym bag sitting on top of the piano and drops the papers inside. “You get who you get. No switching. And you won't just prepare a song, no.” He raises his eyebrows at them, pauses dramatically with a finger raised. “I want you to go _all out_. Choreography. Props, if you need them. Use the band. And, most importantly, make your own arrangement of the song you pick! Choose a pop song and make it into 80s rock. Choose a rock number and make it into a ballad. As long as it's different.”

Excited murmurs break out all across the room as people are sticking their heads together, exchanging ideas. Kurt leans back in his chair and sighs. This is quickly turning into work. He didn't expect this to be actual work when he agreed to the deal with Sue. But it's this or being suspended. He kind of secretly hopes he'll get partnered with Rachel. Her grating personality aside, she seems like his best option. Because she'd make all the decisions and do all the work and probably insist on singing everything herself. Besides, they already didn't get along when she was dating Finn, so interaction with her would most likely be minimal. It's really the only outcome he thinks he could cope with.

Mr. Schue turns to his hat and exaggeratedly closes his eyes as he fishes out the first two papers. “And our first duet will be sung by -” He unfolds the papers. “Santana and Artie!”

There's clapping. Artie is looking scared out of his mind. Santana is smirking. Mr. Schue is already sticking his hand in the hat for more names.

“Brittany and Rachel,” he shouts out, and Kurt groans. So much for his hopes. He'll get stuck with a partner who'll actually want to do a real duet.

“Mercedes and Sam,” Mr. Schue announces and Kurt doesn't miss the expression on Sam's face – he looks like he's won the fucking lottery.

He's getting a little impatient when Mr. Schue makes a big show of selecting the next two scraps of paper. He's tired of having to pay attention to this nonsense. 

“Tina and Mike!” Tina looks surprised. Mike is smiling at her, looking pleased.

“Blaine and Kurt,” Mr. Schue calls out next, and Kurt doesn't bother suppressing his loud sigh. This is fucking perfect. Partnered with the one guy he has something resembling history with, a guy who insists on smiling at him because of something meaningless that happened ages ago.

He doesn't really pay attention to the rest of the proceedings, instead keeps staring straight ahead to avoid Blaine catching his eye. If he ignores this maybe it will go away. While Mr. Schue wraps up pairing people off, Kurt sits motionless in his chair and hates Sue with all his might for stranding him with these weirdos.

“All right,” Mr. Schue says. “Since this is a big project and I want you to really work on it, I'm giving you four weeks to come up with something and rehearse it on your own time. We'll keep working on our competition numbers in here, and you'll work on your duets as homework. If any of you need the auditorium at any time, let me know.” He claps his hands. “Okay, let’s get back to business . . .”

Kurt feels even less enthusiastic about all this singing today than he does usually.

Homework. For glee club. With sweater vest-wearing, seventeen-year old grandpa guy.

Fucking awesome.

**

Blaine has always prided himself on being able to make the best of almost any situation. But he's not sure how well that will work now that he has to sing a duet with Kurt Hummel.

No, not just sing. They'll have to arrange a number, come up with choreography, and perform as a team in front of everyone.

. . . This is going to be a disaster.

Kurt doesn't look at him all through their practice, doesn't even acknowledge his existence. He stays in the back, reluctantly going along with what they're doing, and stubbornly turns his head away every time Blaine looks over his shoulder to make eye contact.

He has no idea what Kurt's problem is. They'll have to work together. This is ridiculous.

Once practice ends, Blaine can see Kurt grabbing his bag and hurrying for the door the way he does every time.

Blaine shoves his things in his bag unceremoniously, shouts out an “I'll call you later,” to Sam, and darts from the room, breaking into a run once he's out in the hallway to catch up with Kurt. He's not going to let him get away this easily – they have an assignment. One that's actually fun. Or . . . well, one that could be fun, if he were doing it with anyone else at all. Heck, he would have preferred Santana over Kurt Hummel, and he's seriously afraid of her most of the time.

“Kurt,” he calls, a little too loudly, as he sees a pink head disappear around the far corner toward the exit.

Kurt doesn't even slow down, pretending he didn't hear Blaine.

“Kurt!” Blaine yells again, putting on a little speed, skidding on the floor as he rounds the corner. He catches Kurt just outside the main entrance, spins around in front of him to cut off his escape. “Hey!”

Kurt stops, looks at him coolly. “Blake,” he says.

“It's Blaine,” Blaine says, out of breath. “Didn't you hear me calling after you?”

“I heard,” Kurt says, but offers no further explanation.

“We got partnered,” Blaine says. “For the duet?”

“I'm aware, yes.”

“Well . . . we need to talk about this. Start planning. Work out a rehearsal schedule.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, the one with the piercing in it. “Um. Why?”

“. . . Why?” Blaine gapes at him. “Because – because – we have to!”

“How very eloquent.” Kurt turns his gaze skyward, sighs deeply, then looks back at him. “Look, Blake. _Blaine_. You obviously care about this a lot more than I do, so why don't you just pick something, and I'll go along with it? I give you full artistic control.”

Blaine honestly thinks about agreeing for a second, but the dutiful student inside him resists. “That's not the point of the assignment,” he reminds Kurt. “We're meant to be doing this together.”

“So you actually want this to go badly.”

“No, I just -”

“You think I have any interest in doing this? I really don't have time for that kind of thing.”

“It's our homework,” Blaine insists. “We _have_ to do this.”

“Homework for an extracurricular.” Kurt laughs. “You people are complete nutcases. But I assume you know that already.”

“Well,” Blaine says, glaring at Kurt. “Like it or not, you're one of us now. That's not my fault. Don't take it out on me.”

“I'm not,” Kurt says. “I'm trying really hard to not take it out on you by handing you this entire project to do with whatever you please. Are you dumb?”

“Don't talk to me that way.”

“This is how I _talk_ , Blaine.”

“You can actually learn manners, you know? Are _you_ dumb?”

Something like amusement flickers in Kurt's eyes, and even though the smile only stays on his face for a fraction of a second, Blaine sees it. “Why are you so insistent on this? Why not actually do what you want and pretend we did it together?”

Blaine stares at him. “You want me to lie to a teacher?”

“Blaine, has anyone ever told you that you're really weird?”

“You have pink hair and a unicorn on your shirt, and you're calling me weird?”

“Unicorns are totally punk rock, haven't you heard?”

“Punk rock? No, I like actual music.”

Kurt laughs. “Okay. As fun as this is, I do actually have a life and I can't stand here all day chatting. So. If you'll excuse me.”

He tries to push past Blaine, but Blaine mirrors his side step to cut off his way again. “We haven't set up a time yet.”

“A time for what?”

“To work on our assignment.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Kurt sighs again. “If I meet with you once to agree with everything you suggest, will you get off my back about this?”

Blaine nods. “Once is a start.”

“It's also a finish,” Kurt says.

“We'll see.” Blaine gets out his phone to open his calendar app. “When are you free?”

“Never,” Kurt says. “But if we absolutely have to, I can squeeze you in this Saturday. Around four.”

Blaine adds the date to his calendar, nods. “That works for me. Okay. Do you want to come over to my place? I have a piano.”

“Of course you do,” Kurt says. “Fine. Where do you live?”

Blaine digs out a piece of paper, scribbles his address down for Kurt hastily. “Should we exchange numbers?” he asks. “In case we want to bounce ideas back and forth before Saturday.” He doesn't know why he's suggesting this. The words just come out.

“No,” Kurt says simply, taking the scrap of paper with Blaine's address and shoving it into the pockets of his dark gray jeans. “Bye.”

And with that, he leaves.

Blaine stares after him, feeling like he just won a boxing match. He's exhausted. And this was just a relatively short conversation.

Saturday afternoon is gonna be . . . interesting. He almost regrets not taking Kurt's offer of preparing the duet all by himself. It might be against the rules, but it would definitely have been easier.

**

Kurt drives his camper out to the old, abandoned parking lot of the old, abandoned public pool where he used to go with Quinn all the time. He hasn't been here since they 'broke up.' He hasn't seen much of Quinn either.

They only ever came here to have sex in the back of his car. That was quite literally the only reason they ever drove out here. The entire back of his old camper is set up for it: the bed permanently folded out, a stack of ratty old towels shoved into the corner and some spare pairs of underwear and T-shirts in case he ever needs them, condoms in one of the old drawers.

Quinn liked it a little rough sometimes. As did he. Thinking back now, it occurs to him that a lot of their fucking was rather aggressive. He wonders what that means.

He hadn't meant for this camper to become a rolling sex lair when he first go it. He'd had all kinds of ideas, back then. Nice, naïve, innocent ideas.

When he was fifteen and thinking about rebuilding this thing with his dad and the world had still been something resembling normal, Kurt had imagined cleaning it all up, this old piece of junk, maybe decorate it a bit, make it look nice again. He could have gone on road trips, seen things outside of Lima.

Now, he likes this crappy rustbucket just the way it is – old and dirty and battered. He thinks they're a good match, he and his car. Also, it's not like he hasn't done anything with it at all. There are faded blue sheets on the bed, the battery light hanging from the ceiling, a few books somewhere under the mattress. In the broken storage cabinet there are two untouched beer cans and a trash bag he'll have to remember to throw away later, with a few empty cans from the time Quinn stole them some beers on a dare. He thinks there's still a half-empty pack of cigarettes lying around somewhere under the towels or wherever. Quinn forgot it the day she dumped him and they haven't been spending much time together since.

He misses her, wishes they could have meant it when they said they'd stay friends. But she's busy with her new boyfriend and Kurt, if he's being quite honest with himself, is still feeling more than a little hurt from being discarded like he was nothing more than a distraction.

He hadn't been in love with Quinn. But they've been through a lot together. That means something to him. He'd hoped it would mean something to her too.

Crawling through into the back, he thinks for a moment about finding Quinn's cigarettes and having one. But he's never been good at smoking. Not that he hasn't done it. But he doesn't like the way the smoke feels in his lungs and he kind of hates the taste of it.

“You get used to it,” Quinn had told him once, blowing smoke into his face.

“No, thanks. I do enough passive smoking kissing you,” he'd informed her.

She'd laughed and wrestled him to the ground out in the parking lot and, as so often, they'd ended up back here on the fold-out bed, Quinn on her back, digging her nails into his skin and telling him to go harder.

He doesn't like thinking about it now.

The beer is warm but he opens one of the last two cans anyway, finding them under one of his dirty T-shirts in the cabinet. He sits down on the still folded out bed and takes a long sip. It's pretty disgusting, and he definitely doesn't want to get drunk, just . . . get a nice buzz on.

It's been a bit of a day.

Hell. It's been a bit of a year. More than a year. Over two years now.

He chugs the beer down quickly and opens the second one as well against his better judgment – Carole's working the night shift and Finn will be having his perky cheerleader girlfriend over, and if he knows Finn at all that means he'll be up in his room and not even notice if the house gets cleaned out by burglars. It also means Kurt can just sleep out here tonight if he doesn't feel like going back home.

He can't stand being in that house sometimes.

It's getting dark and the air is a little stuffy in here, so he slides the side door open, noticing the pack of cigarettes sitting there shoved into the corner as he settles down in the open door.

The lighter is tucked inside, he sees as he picks them up. Curiosity gets the better of him and he takes one, tucks it between his lips, lights it. He coughs. It's just as awful as he remembers.

He manages about five drags, until he feels lightheaded from the nicotine or carbon monoxide or whatever shit it is that makes you feel lightheaded about smoking when you're not used to it.

“Vile things,” he mutters, letting the cigarette drop to the ground and stepping on it with the tip of one boot. He kind of got the appeal the few times Quinn convinced him to smoke pot. But this is just fucking disgusting.

The second beer tastes even worse now, so he pours the rest of it out over the cigarette stub and crawls back into the camper, lies down on the fold-out bed and stares at the ceiling, arms crossed over his stomach.

He feels like a fucking mess and he can't see anything changing that in the near future. Or ever, really. He doesn't know how.

The taste in his mouth, left over from the smoke, reminds him of Quinn. Who is probably off somewhere fucking her shiny new boyfriend Richard the Dick right now, while Kurt's sitting here in their old secret spot, drinking all by himself like a fucking loser.

Now that he has no friends left at all, who is he even trying to be?

He sighs. He should really go home soon, get some proper sleep in a proper bed. Today he just couldn't, but there's three days left until the weekend and he promises himself he'll go to the hospital every afternoon until then. And he can't look half dead when he does that.


	3. Chapter 3

The week goes by slowly and Blaine does his best not to feel nervous about the weekend. He wishes they could have met earlier, just so he could get it over with. But there's nothing to do about it except wait. Time won't speed up just because he wants it to.

“I can come over for support,” Sam offers over lunch on Friday. “Just let me know!”

Blaine shakes his head. “Thanks. But I think it'll be fine.”

Sam doesn't look convinced. “If you say so. But hey, if you do need my help at any point, just text me. The codeword is 'Batman.' If you want me to come over, just text me that.”

Blaine frowns at him. “If I'm texting you, why don't I just write 'please come over?' It's not like he'll be able to read it.”

Sam rolls his eyes at him. “Dude. Because a codeword is, like, ten times cooler?”

“Oh,” Blaine says. “Right.”

He hasn't exchanged a single word with Kurt since they made their plans, and Friday goes exactly the same way – he doesn't even think Kurt's actively avoiding him, he just behaves the same way he always does. Blaine would have liked to confirm that they're still on for Saturday afternoon, but there's not a trace of Kurt to be seen when he finally leaves the school Friday afternoon, so he assumes he'll just have to wait and see.

His dad's off on business like so often, some conference in . . . Texas, or California, or somewhere else; Blaine's stopped keeping track a while ago. His mom has a charity thing on Saturday and is planning to go out with some her friends afterwards, so Blaine has the house to himself.

Usually, he likes it when his parents are gone while he has friends over. The only friends he actually invites over are Tina and Sam anyway, and he likes playing video games on the big television screen downstairs with them. He likes if they can use the karaoke machine his mom bought last year without her butting in constantly trying to sing with them. And, well, until a few weeks ago, whenever Tina was over he liked being able to have some alone time without his mom knocking on the door every five minutes.

Even though Tina had probably liked that more than he had. He still doesn't know what's wrong with him.

Okay, that's not true. He has many ideas. There's some stuff he's read on the internet. So there's a bunch of different theories concerning his . . . issues. He just can't figure out which one really applies to him.

He spends his Saturday getting the rest of his homework out of the way, then does some extra reading because he has the time.

For lunch he makes himself a sandwich and some salad, blasts Katy Perry, and swings his hips as he dances around the kitchen. He's been listening to more of her music lately, has thought about suggesting one of her songs for the duet. But Kurt would probably refuse to sing it with him.

There's a lot of music he has rediscovered for himself lately. From Roxy Music over Phil Collins to Katy Perry, he's spent afternoons going through his CDs and some of the old vinyl records he loves and has sung along with all of it. Not that he hadn't listened to any of this while dating Tina, but whenever she had been over he'd made a point of putting on Lykke Li or Florence + The Machine to show her that the things she liked were important to him.

He's kept the CDs he'd bought to impress her, but he's put them in a box and shoved them in the closet for now. He just . . . needs some distance from all of that. At least for a while.

Since his mom isn't home to complain about crumbs on the couch, he takes his lunch through into the living room and eats in front of the TV, watching old reruns of _Fresh Prince of Bel Air_. They're awesome, and he's always kind of had a thing for Will Smith. He's funny and talented and Blaine likes watching him act.

He tidies his room after putting away his plate, then makes himself a cup of coffee and reads a bit. He's halfway through Jasper Fforde's _Thursday Next_ series and has made himself read more slowly so it won't end so soon.

Four o'clock rolls around and the doorbell doesn't ring. Blaine puts his book down, gets a glass of water, drinks slowly leaning back against the kitchen counter. 

Five minutes past four. 

Ten minutes. 

Fifteen minutes.

At 4:17 the bell finally rings and Blaine stops emptying the dishwasher, goes to open the door.

“You're late,” he tells Kurt.

Kurt shrugs. “I had stuff to do.” He pushes past Blaine into the house, doesn't bother taking his shoes off as he walks through into the living room. “Hey, you actually do have a piano.”

Blaine closes the door, walks after him. “Yeah,” he says, stays standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Um. So. Should we start?”

Kurt drops onto the couch, picks up Blaine's book and examines it. “I've read this,” he says to Blaine's surprise. “Great book.”

“You read?” Blaine asks before he can stop himself.

Kurt smirks at him. “Blaine Anderson, are you stereotyping me?”

Blaine clamps his mouth shut. “You were rude first,” he finally settles on. “By being late.”

“I didn't realize it was a competition,” Kurt says, putting the book back onto the coffee table.

“It isn't,” Blaine says. “Sorry for making assumptions based on . . . well. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine,” Kurt says. “Sorry for being late, I guess.”

“So.” Blaine walks over, sits on the piano bench. “Have you given any thought to our assignment?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, not really.”

Blaine sighs heavily. “Okay. Fine. Want me to give you my suggestions, then?”

Kurt lifts his shoulders. “Whatever. Go ahead.”

“Okay.” Blaine reaches behind himself, picks up his notebook from the top of the piano, flips it open to the right page. “So . . . I figured we should do something a little fun? Maybe? Lots of traditional duets are love songs, and I guess that's not really the direction we want to take with this.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him. “Not particularly, if you don't mind.”

Blaine blushes for no reason. “Yeah, I – um. Anyway. The songs I thought would be fun for us were, for one, _The River of Dreams_ by Billy Joel?”

Kurt scoffs. “Lame. Pick a better song.”

“It's a good song.”

“It's also lame.”

“Okay. _We Are Young_. By Fun.”

“No. I don't like it.”

“Elton John, _Goodbye Yellow Brick Road_?”

“Do you only know songs that the whole world knows?” 

“What's wrong with popular songs?” Blaine lifts his shoulders, feeling a little defensive. “They're popular because people like them. That's literally the definition of popular. What's wrong with me liking them? They're good.”

“It's also a little unimaginative to go with something five other people are going to pick as well.”

Blaine closes his notepad, tries not to scream in frustration. “For someone who has no opinions and doesn't want to offer any input at all, you are having a lot of objections to everything.”

Kurt lifts one corner of his mouth in a half-smirk, drapes an arm along the back of the couch and stretches out his legs in front of him. “ Hey. I did offer you complete control over this and you insisted on dragging me into it instead. You could have avoided this very easily.”

“So, maybe you should suggest something then,” Blaine tells him. “Because I don't really know what to do here.”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don't think we really like the same kind of music.”

Blaine tilts his head back, takes a deep breath, then another. Kurt is infuriating. “What about the Beatles? Everyone likes the Beatles.”

Kurt is quiet for a few long seconds, then he gives a tiny nod. “Fine. I guess I can live with the Beatles.”

“Wait, really?” Blaine looks at him. “Can we actually agree on this?”

“As long as you're not making me sing _Yellow Submarine_.”

“It's a -”

“If you say it's a good song I'm gonna leave.”

Blaine is starting to think that might not be such a bad thing, but he bites back the bitchy reply. “What songs do you like?” he asks.

Kurt leans forward, picks up Blaine's book again, opens it at the beginning. “Whatever,” he says.

Blaine only just keeps himself from smashing his head down onto the piano keys.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Kurt stays for an hour before he informs Blaine he has 'somewhere to be that's not here' and leaves.

Blaine sees him out, mostly to make sure he's really gone, and stares after the huge, brownish-orange mini-bus monstrosity rumbling down the street. It looks kind of cool, he admits to himself. It seems exactly like the kind of vehicle a guy like Kurt would be driving.

They've managed to agree on something at last – even if it's _not_ by the Beatles. Big surprise, Blaine thinks. Of course Kurt had vetoed all of his suggestions, probably just to piss him off. Blaine's pretty sure about that. 

So, instead they're going to do _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ by Simon and Garfunkel as a sort of ironic folk-rock arrangement. Blaine's actually surprised Kurt did agree to this of all things, but it might even have been his suggestion? Blaine isn't sure anymore.

He feels tired and worn out and this had just been the beginning. They still need to arrange it, and then they'll need to practice.

He walks back into the living room, lies down on the couch and turns the TV back on. He's made it through almost an entire episode of _Merlin_ when his phone vibrates on the coffee table. He picks it up and sees a text from an unknown number.

_Leave the arrangement to me, I've got it covered._

It's Kurt. It has to be Kurt. He's not arranging anything else with any other person.

_How did you get my number?_ He texts back.

Kurt never replies, not that Blaine really expected him to.

He starts another episode, then pauses it, picks up his phone again, and orders himself a large pepperoni pizza. After this afternoon, he feels like he deserves a treat and he really does not feel like cooking.

**

Sunday is boring. Kurt has nothing to do, not really, and Carole's busy cleaning the entire house because his dad comes home tomorrow. How long he'll get to stay this time is anyone's guess.

Kurt doesn't know how much he's looking forward to having him back home. It's gonna be good, in a way. It's also gonna be really fucking difficult in a lot of other ways.

He helps cleaning all morning because he doesn't have anywhere to be and because, well, it's still his house. Once they're done, he tries his best to hide away in his room and read, but Carole insists on all of them having lunch together since she won't be home for dinner. She's picked up a lot of extra shifts lately so that she can be home for a few days when his dad gets home after all those weeks in the hospital. It's nice of her, he supposes. Sometimes he thinks he should be a lot more grateful for everything she's doing for them, for the way she loves his father. But it still feels like she and Finn are intruding, in a way, pushing their way into his family and taking up permanent residence there.

Finn is driving him up the walls anyway. He's so damn _cheerful_. Which probably has a lot to do with his girlfriend coming over later – he's actually asked Kurt if he minds. And, yeah, Kurt minds. But it's really none of his business. He doesn't relish the thought, though, of sitting in his room all evening hearing the sounds of a headboard banging against the wall from the room down the hall.

“How are you holding up?” Carole asks him after dinner as he's wiping down the table while Finn is filling the dishwasher in the kitchen.

He shrugs. “I'm fine.”

“I'm not,” she says. “You don't have to be either. It's okay.”

He's not quite sure what she wants him to say. “It is what it is,” he tries. “At least he's coming home. That's something.”

“We'll have to tie him to the couch to keep him from moving around too much.” Carole smiles.

He smiles back at her, even if he's not in the mood. But yeah. She's probably right. “He's stubborn that way. I don't think tying him to the couch will actually keep him there for long. He'll drag the whole thing behind himself to go check up on the shop.”

“Probably.” She shakes her head, smile turning fond. “You're a lot like him that way, aren't you?”

His throat feels too tight but at the same time he's feeling almost happy. “I guess.”

Carole gives him a long look. “I'll do my best to arrange more of my shifts so one of us can always be here for him. All right?”

He nods. “Yeah. That – um. That would be good.” It should feel good that he doesn't have to shoulder all of this responsibility himself. That Carole is here to help him. He knows that. But what actually makes him happiest are all those times she lets him take responsibility and makes him feel like he still has an active part in taking care of his own father.

“I should get going,” she says. He can see her moving that half step forward, as if she's planning to give him a hug. He can already feel his shoulders stiffening in defense, but Carole is already swerving to the side, walking past him with a warm squeeze to his shoulder instead.

She's doing her best, he knows that. And if he ever needed to talk, she'd listen. But he doesn't want a new mother. He doesn't need one. He's too old for that. And he still has a father, after all. That's enough. It's nice that she's trying, and he knows it can't be easy for her either. Sometimes he thinks about her life and what it must have been like; falling in love, having a son, and then losing her husband. Working full time, raising her son all on her own. Falling in love again only to have her new husband get sick. And suddenly she's stuck with a full time job and two sons, one of whom doesn't even make an effort to show her any kind of affection.

He hates himself sometimes for making her life suck even more. He even hates himself for making Finn's life suck a lot of the time. But it's his life too. And as much as he wants his dad to be happy, he doesn't like the thought of sharing whatever little time they have left with other people.

As soon as Carole is gone, Kurt grabs his keys and heads for the door.

“Where are you going?” Finn asks on his way to the living room to watch TV or whatever.

“Out,” Kurt says, then adds, half ironically, “don't wait up for me,” and closes the door behind himself.

He drives out to the old pool for some quiet time and thinks about his meeting with Blaine the day before. He regrets suggesting that song. It just sort of seemed like the only way to get this stupid assignment over with – all of Blaine's suggestions had sucked and he'd just wanted to leave, so he'd named the first song he'd be able to come up with.

Music used to be a thing for him. Before it all kind of stopped mattering. The first time his dad had landed in the hospital, back when he hadn't even had Carole and Finn, this had been how he'd spent his time, calmed his nerves while he was waiting. It's just a recording he has of himself playing the piano and trying out the vocals for _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ – one of his mom's old favorites, arranged to sound like the Mellencamp songs his dad likes to listen to when he works. The thought of sharing it with Blaine makes him cringe, but if he just lives through this, he'll be able to go back to not speaking to any of them. He won't have to meet with Blaine again.

It makes him uncomfortable, but at least it will be over quickly this way.

The parking lot isn't empty, and for a moment he considers turning around and leaving.

Quinn only ever steals her aunt's car when things are bad and he's just not sure he's gonna be able to handle her drama too right now. But he doesn't really have anywhere else to go.

Her car is empty, so he slips through one of the numerous holes in the fence – the city has been meaning to demolish the pool for years now, but they never seem to be able to find the money to actually do it. So it just sits here, crumbling away slowly, plants and bugs and rats slowly taking back what had once been theirs.

There's no water in it anymore, but two of the rusty old ladders are still in place, an old diving board on the far end. Someone's placed a folding chair at the end of it, but it looks as rusty as anything here.

Quinn's sitting at the edge of the pool, legs dangling into the empty basin. She's smoking a cigarette, only looking over her shoulder briefly as he approaches.

“Heard your fucking camper from a mile away,” she greets him.

“Hello to you too,” he says back, sits down next to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you.” She blows out some smoke. “Hiding.”

“Not hanging out with Richard the Dick today?”

She doesn't even correct him on the name, which is his first clue that something's wrong. “Nope.”

“What's going on?”

“Pretty sure he's having an affair,” she says.

“Well, that sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you broke up?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

She shrugs. “It happens.”

He nods. She acts tough, but he can tell she's upset. He can't change that. “So he is actually a dick. Aptly named.”

“I guess.” She takes a last drag from her cigarette, squashes it out against the stone slabs before flicking it into the pool. “What's up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You look like someone ran over your cat.”

“School stuff,” he says. “Glee club stuff, to be precise.”

“Sue still forcing you to be part of that shit show?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, man. That's worse than a cheating ex-boyfriend.”

“We have to do duets. I'll actually have to sing. I seriously thought about faking my own death.”

“Duets? Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“God.” She exhales, stares out across the big, empty pool. “Do you ever just feel like punching the shit out of something until your knuckles bleed?”

“Kind of all of the time.”

“This sucks,” she says. “I'm so fucking sick of everything going to shit all the time.”

“I know what you mean.”

She pauses, then says in a low voice, “I really thought it was something, this time. You know? So fucking stupid. But I really thought that maybe there was more.”

He nods. “We've been lied to by books and movies our whole lives. Takes a while to get rid of those shit expectations.”

“Yeah.” She looks over at him. “Listen, you can totally say no, but . . . I'd kind of like to forget for just a little while? Just blow off some steam.”

He considers it, figures: why not? This way, at least they won't have to talk. He doesn't feel up to talking today, and it's been over a month since their last time. “All right,” he says. “Sure. Why not.”

They crawl back through the fence and into the back of his camper, and he ends up on his back this time, Quinn on top of him. He wants to just not think, and she seems to have some aggression to work out, so he just kind of lets her do what she wants.

He's not really all that into it, but she knows what to do, how to get him going, and it does drown out all other feelings at least for a little while. He closes his eyes and just kind of goes with it until it starts feeling good.

Still, as they're lying next to each other half-naked and panting once they're done, he finds that he doesn't really feel any better.

He wonders why that is.


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine finds Kurt by the lockers the next day. He's putting something away and Blaine is surprised to see how neat and organized his locker is, then scolds himself for stereotyping Kurt once again.

“Hey,” he says.

Kurt looks at him over his shoulder. He's wearing a beanie over his messy hair today, some pink streaks sticking out from underneath, and a black half-circle thing through his eyebrow instead of his usual silver ring, but his scowl is the same as ever. “Hey.”

“How's it going?”

“Why do you ask?”

Blaine opens his mouth, closes it again. “I – well . . .”

“I assume you're here about the song,” Kurt says.

Truthfully, it's not the only reason Blaine is here. He's also made up his mind to try and . . . maybe not befriend Kurt, but try to get along with him better. There's just no way they'll be able to practice and perform a duet together if they don't get along. But he thinks it's better not to come right out and tell him that. “Yeah,” he says. “The song. Um. You said you had a suggestion for an arrangement?”

Kurt merely nods, reaches into his bag and pulls out a USB stick, handing it to Blaine. “All taken care of. And I'll need that stick back once you've copied the file. I assume that'll cut the number of our meetings in half at least?”

Blaine tilts his head at him. “Kurt, I haven't even listened to this yet. And we'll still need to practice and – and decide how we want to perform it -”

“You're not letting this go, are you?”

“It's our assignment.”

Kurt groans, slams his locker door shut. “Whatever. But I can't today.”

“Oh, okay, but -”

“Not today, Blaine.”

“Tomorrow? We should really -”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Kurt exhales heavily. “Fine. Tomorrow. Will that make you shut up and let me leave now?”

“When tomorrow?”

Kurt shrugs. “I'll text you.”

“By the way, how did you get my number?”

Kurt snorts. “Blaine, it's on the glee club members list Schuester handed me when I was made to join.”

“Oh.”

“Thought I'd stolen your phone to copy your number?”

“No, I -”

Kurt nods toward the stick in Blaine's hands. “Listen to it. And I'll text you about tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Blaine says to Kurt's retreating back.

He just doesn't know what to make of any of this. It seems Kurt is trying, because he came up with the arrangement for their song choice. Provided there's actual music on the USB drive, not just a sound file of Kurt's voice laughing at Blaine for being naïve enough to believe he'd actually make an effort.

But it also seems that Kurt is not trying at all. He just doesn't seem interested. No, more than that, he seems annoyed. Pretty much all the time. And Blaine gets it, he understands that being in glee club wasn't Kurt's choice and that spending his free time on a glee club assignment isn't his idea of a good time.

However, Blaine thinks, none of that is his fault. It's not his fault he got paired with Kurt.

It's not Kurt's fault either, though.

They'll just have to make the best of it. Blaine is willing to try. The problem is, he has no idea if Kurt feels the same way.

“Dude.” Sam suddenly shows up next to him, staring after Kurt. “What's his problem?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don't think he really wants to be in glee club.”

“Yeah.” Sam seems to think about it. “That must suck for him. But he doesn't have to be a jerk about it. Sucks for you too, doesn't it? With all that duet stuff going on?”

“Kind of. Yeah.”

“Fucked up situation,” Sam says, clapping a hand to Blaine's shoulder. “Only, like, three more weeks, though. And then he can go back to hating glee and you don't have to hang out with him anymore.”

“Hang out with who?” Tina asks, joining the two of them by the lockers.

“Kurt Hummel,” Sam explains. “He's not really into the duet thing, apparently.”

“Oh, right,” Tina says. “That really kind of sucks for both of you. At least it'll be over eventually, right, Blaine?”

Blaine nods and makes himself smile at Tina. She smiles back, and he's glad. But he kind of thinks she's wrong. Sam too. What he wants isn't really for the assignment to be over. What he wants is for Kurt to enjoy it and to work with him. Wouldn't that be so much better than simply getting it over with?

They set off together making their way to class, but Tina puts a hand on Blaine's shoulder, holding him back. “Blaine, can I talk to you for just a moment?”

Sam looks between the two of them for a second before understanding flickers in his eyes. “Oh, uh, I have a long walk to English and I can't be late. See you guys at lunch?”

“See you,” Blaine says, and Tina waves at him.

“Yeah, see you!”

He lets Tina pull him into a slightly less populated corner before he asks, “What's up?”

She bites her lip, hesitates. “Um . . . Okay. So. I just don't want things to be weird between us, so I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

His heart sinks. “What is it?”

“Mike asked me out,” she says.

“Oh.”

“And I said yes.”

He swallows. “I – Yeah. I mean, yeah. Of course you did. I mean -”

“You don't mind, do you? This is not gonna make things weird again?”

“No,” he says, although he's feeling a bit sick. “No, of course not. We broke up, Tina.”

“So you're okay with this?”

He lifts the corners of his mouth into a smile, waves off her concerns with a flick of his hand. “Yeah, no, totally! That's great for you. You should go for it. Mike's great.”

“I'm glad,” she says, and touches his arm.

He doesn't recoil, but it's a close thing. “I'll see you at lunch, okay?” he says. “I forgot something in my locker.”

“Sure.” She smiles at him, and she really, genuinely looks happy.

That's good, he tells himself as he hurries off. He still does love her as a friend. She's one of his best friends. He absolutely wants her to be happy.

And Mike really is a great guy. He can imagine them together.

Oh god. He can really, vividly imagine them together. And once he's started, he sort of can't stop anymore.

This is gonna be an interesting, not really very good day at all.

**

By the time Kurt gets home Monday afternoon, his dad is already home, settled on the couch in the living room looking thin and frail, but he's there. Six weeks away, but now he's back at last.

“Hey, buddy.” His smile is still the same.

Kurt walks over, drops his bag onto a chair, bends down to hug his father before sitting down next to him on the couch. “Hi, dad. Welcome home!”

Finn is still at football practice and Carole says something about having to check the grocery list for later. Kurt gives her a grateful smile as she meets his eyes before leaving the room.

“It's good to be back,” his dad says, and he sounds like he means it.

Kurt takes a breath to make sure his voice is steady before he speaks. “It's good to have you back.”

“You doing okay, kid?”

“Don't worry about me, dad.”

“It's what I do, Kurt. I'm your dad. I know it's not been easy for you. And I'm sorry about that.”

Kurt shakes his head vehemently. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Your only job right now is to take care of yourself so you can get better.” He bumps their shoulders together gently. “I need you around for a while longer, you know?” His voice cracks a little on those words, he can't help it. Sometimes, he just feels like he's eight years old again. And he can't go through that again. Not again.

“I plan on sticking around,” his dad says firmly. “For a long time.”

Kurt nods. “Okay. I'll hold you to that.”

“You do that, kiddo.” His dad nudges him back. “We're gonna get through this, all right? You and me. We've got through worse together.”

Kurt rests his head on his dad's shoulder just for a little while, and changes the topic to all the gossip he's picked up on his last visit to the garage. His dad laughs at his stories, and it's good to have his laughter in the house again.

They have dinner together as a family once Finn is home too. It's almost normal. Almost.

It's when they're all back in the living room, some mindless game show on as nothing more but an excuse for them to spend some more time together, that Kurt finally looks at his phone, for the first time since he came home earlier.

There's a text from Quinn:

_Thanks for yesterday. Everything good at home?_

He replies with a simple _np, anytime. And yeah, all good._

There's also two missed calls from Blaine and three texts.

_I like your arrangement of the song, we should def use it!! :)_

_Have you thought about tomorrow? You wanted to let me know about a time?_

_Kurt? We should set up a time for tomorrow! Can you text me?_

Kurt sighs. He'd honestly forgotten. Not that Blaine won't have expected that from him. If he's very unlucky this will earn him another lecture about how important school assignments are and how he needs to take this stupid club more seriously.

_Sorry_ , he texts back. _I was busy. Right after glee practice tomorrow?_

Blaine must have been holding his phone when Kurt wrote to him, because the reply comes within seconds. _Okay. Yeah, after glee works for me. Where do you want to go?_

_Your house_ , Kurt writes back without even having to think about it. He's not bringing Blaine home with him.

_Great! See you tomorrow!_

Kurt pockets his phone and sees his father watching him with curiosity in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

Kurt shrugs. “Yeah, just a friend. I have to go over to his house tomorrow to work on some glee club assignment, but I'll be home in time for dinner.”

“You been making friends in glee club?” His dad sounds happy about it.

“Yes. Well. The one. His name's Blaine. He's . . . nice.” It's not even a complete lie. The friend part maybe. But Blaine is, for all intents and purposes, nice. And his dad will like it if Kurt makes friends in glee club. Nice, normal friends who can't get him into trouble.

“Sounds great. You doing group projects?”

“Just duets,” Kurt explains. “We're singing Simon and Garfunkel. _Bridge Over Troubled Water._ ”

“Nice,” his dad says.

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “It is nice.”

He's glad when his father focuses back on the TV screen. He doesn't like lying to him, but it's better than telling him why he's really in the club, or how he's really feeling.

And by the way, it's his own fault that he feels horrible about it. He's brought this on himself. He'll just have to live with it now.

**

Blaine puts his phone down, frowning. At least Kurt finally responded. They have their . . . meeting, for lack of a better word, scheduled. And it's not like Kurt was rude, not exactly.

It's not easy, telling someone's tone from a simple text, but he always senses something behind Kurt's words, behind the way he presents himself even. He just can't put his finger on what it is.

Kurt is angry. Blaine doesn't think that much is a front. Kurt also doesn't want to be in glee club and Kurt doesn't want to be stuck in this, in his eyes, pointless assignment.

But his piano arrangement is beautiful. There's no other word for it. He's rewritten parts of the melody but kept it recognizable. It's a little angry, but also hopeful, and underlying all of that is a tone that's so hauntingly sad Blaine could feel the emotion in it down to his bones – it's almost hard to believe that Kurt did that. But on the other hand, it's not difficult to imagine at all. Because that's the other side of Kurt, and maybe that's the thing Blaine's been sensing all along. There's a sadness behind all of his anger that goes beyond his emo attitude and his harsh words and that sometimes haunted look in his eyes.

He hears the doorbell ring downstairs but ignores it – his mom is home and it's probably one of her friends anyway. He opens up TwoDots on his phone to play a few rounds, but then hears his mother calling up the stairs, “Blaine, Sam is here!”

Surprised, he opens his bedroom door, ready to call for Sam to come up and join him. But Sam's already thundering up the stairs, almost bowling him over as he pushes his way into Blaine's room, his cheeks red and his eyes wide and frantic.

“Hey, Sam,” Blaine says, turning to see his best friend throwing himself face-down onto Blaine's neatly made bed, groaning dramatically. “What's up?” He closes the door again, walks to his desk to sit down in the desk chair.

Sam rolls over onto his back, putting both hands over his face. “I hate my life,” he whimpers.

Blaine suddenly remembers. “Oh! You met with Mercedes this afternoon to work on your duet, didn't you?”

Sam nods, dropping his hands, turning his face to look at Blaine. “Her voice. Just – her voice! And her smile! And she's so beautiful and so _perfect_ and she has the most amazing laugh and _Blaine what am I gonna do_?”

Blaine sighs, lifts his shoulders. He does feel sorry for Sam, but he doesn't have any idea either. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Sam waves an arm helplessly, looking miserable. “She's really into that Shane guy and he seems so nice and they're so happy, and I can't get between them. I can't ever do that. But -” he sighs heavily. “I just like her so much.”

“I know,” Blaine says. “I'm sorry. That sucks.”

But Sam's already talking again, and Blaine knows that sometimes he just needs to get it all out. He sits and listens until Sam has to go home to make his curfew.

Maybe, Blaine thinks as he brushes his teeth later that night, everyone's life is a mess. Maybe that's just the way it is. Maybe all any of them can do is to get by and try to make the best of everything.

Maybe all anyone can do to make it easier is to help each other out with getting by as well as they can.

Maybe Kurt needs someone to help him too. He wonders if Kurt has anyone who really does that for him.

He wonders why he can't stop thinking about him.

**

Kurt almost regrets agreeing to come over the Blaine's place today – not that he could have really avoided it. But this entire assignment is pointless and stupid and seriously getting on his nerves, and Blaine is so determined to make it perfect, and . . . and he just wants to be anywhere but here right now.

Blaine's sitting at the piano, playing a new version of _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ similar to the one from Kurt's recording.

Kurt sits on the couch and listens and feels so exposed it's like standing naked in front of a crowd of strangers.

He regrets giving Blaine the song, he doesn't even understand his impulsive decision anymore. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Kurt keeps listening, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable and so stupid.

This is _private_. This song, his arrangement of it, it's something private and he just gave it away, just because he had a random afternoon where he felt weak enough to forget abound his boundaries.

“We don't have to use this song,” he says.

Blaine keeps playing; he must have practiced it since Kurt gave him the arrangement like a fucking idiot who has no control over his actions. “But I like it,” he says. “I think it's a good choice.”

“I'm sure there are better choices,” Kurt insists.

Blaine stops playing, turns around on the piano bench. “Don't you want to use it anymore? It was your idea.”

Kurt shrugs, keeps his face neutral, stares past Blaine at the piano. “I mean, whatever. I just think we could find something that fits us better.”

Blaine tilts his head at him. “Like what?”

“Like . . . whatever. Anything.”

“What's wrong with this song?”

“Nothing.” Kurt crosses his arms in front of his chest – to keep himself together and to keep up his pretense of being unaffected by any of this. “I just thought about it again and I think I was wrong. I don't think it really fits us. And it's not really that far from the original, is it? That's kind of hard to do with this song. There's not really a lot of stuff we can do with it in a short time, I guess.”

“If we choose something else, we'll still have to arrange it.”

“Yeah, I know that, Blaine. I'm not an idiot.”

“I was under the impression that you wanted this to be over quick.” Blaine looks at him with this infuriatingly innocent wide-eyed stare. “We'd need to meet a lot more often if we were to start from scratch.”

That's a valid point, Kurt knows. It's a choice between exposing himself to a whole group of people he doesn't even know, or spending the next three weeks hanging out with Blaine probably pretty much every afternoon and most weekends. He wants a third option, but there simply isn't one. “Fine,” he says. “I guess starting from scratch would be okay.”

Blaine is silent for a long time, just looking at Kurt. Kurt does his best not to squirm under his gaze; it's like Blaine is trying to work out something about him and Kurt's so, so afraid that he'll actually succeed.

“Okay,” Blaine says at last. “I'll get my laptop. We can look through my music library for another song.”

He'd kind of expected this to be more of a fight, and it freaks him out a little that Blaine just agrees, as if he understands that this is important to Kurt.

This isn't what he wants. None of this is what he wants. And Blaine being so damn nice and understanding all the fucking time simply makes it worse.

They spend all afternoon going over songs, debating choices, making notes of the ones they think might work, even taking turns playing out melodies on Blaine's piano to see how they might change them. Kurt's not happy about having to actively participate, but that option is still less painful than having to use his song for their number.

By the time Kurt leaves they have decided on a rock version of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ , which is a compromise – Kurt got his wish of doing something fast and Blaine got one of his favorite songs.

“It's gonna be difficult getting the instrumental part for this,” Blaine muses as Kurt pulls on his jacket. “A piano or guitar isn't gonna cut it if we're supposed to go all out.”

“I guess,” Kurt says.

“I'll talk to the band tomorrow,” Blaine decides, already looking happy again. “They're pretty awesome. There's almost nothing they can't do.”

“Great,” Kurt says, and finds a tiny, fake smile for Blaine before he leaves.

They'll have to meet again tomorrow afternoon, and all he really wants to do is spend time with his dad. But now that his dad is home again Kurt needs to behave more than ever – he really doesn't want the school, and Sue specifically, to call his house and for his dad to answer the phone. That's the kind of stress he needs to keep away from him at all costs. 

The good thing is that he'd almost forgotten about feeling awful while looking through songs with Blaine. But the feeling comes back now as he's driving home.

He's been feeling bad ever since he's slept with Quinn on Sunday. It's just . . . he can't stop thinking and feeling weird about it. Not because he knows she was just using him. That's not it.

They've always done this; he knows Quinn's always been using him, from the day they started . . . whatever it was they've been doing with each other. But that's okay. He's been using her too.

He'd been so damn lonely, and then he'd met Quinn. She'd been a good friend to him. And he'd really needed a friend. But he knows he's never been in love with her. He knows she's never been in love with him either.

That whole romance thing is a lie anyway, he'd figured that out a while ago. He's embarrassed to think that he used to believe in it when he was younger, believed that there was someone out there for everyone and that he could fall in love and go on dates and hold hands and it would all feel so good. That's just not how the world works. The world is just people using each other to get through all the crap they get thrown at them.

Getting attached to people is a bad idea, because either they won't care about you in return, or something bad will happen to them and you'll have to live with the pain of losing them. There's just no point.

But he still doesn't know why the memory of Sunday afternoon has left him feeling so dirty and used. He'd wanted it. Hadn't he? He's a guy. Who is he to turn down sex? Other guys would give a lot to be as lucky as he is. And yet here he is wishing he hadn't done it.

He doesn't understand. He's not some blushing virgin. He'd slept with Brittany before he ever became friends with Quinn. Then there was that college girl at that party Quinn dragged him out to. And then there are the many, many times he and Quinn have done it. He's had a _lot_ of sex over the past few years. It's never mattered. None of it. It's just sex. It doesn't mean anything. He doesn't believe in romance or any such bullshit.

He's being a complete idiot about all of this, feeling like he's made a mistake, sleeping with Quinn, he knows that. But he can't help what he feels. It embarrasses the hell out of him, but he just can't stop wishing he hadn't done it. Not that it didn't feel good in the moment. But in retrospect it just feels wrong. And he doesn't know why he has to be such a weirdo about it.


	5. Chapter 5

Tina and Mike are holding hands in glee club the next day.

Blaine sits himself in the back with Sam, who just follows him up there without a word. He's happy for Tina, really, genuinely happy, but he thinks what's really bugging him is how quickly she managed to move on from him. It was just weeks ago that he was holding hands with her all the time. And he doesn't feel remotely ready for a new relationship, but here she is being happy and obviously in love with a nice, gorgeous, talented guy, and Blaine's just left feeling inadequate and boring and lonely.

Kurt walks in just as Blaine sits down, and for a moment Blaine thinks he's going to join him and Sam in the back row. But instead he walks to the other side of the room and sinks into an empty chair there. At least he returns Blaine's greeting nod. That's something.

“Wanna hang out this afternoon?” Sam asks.

Blaine grimaces. “Sorry, I can't. We have to work on our duet.”

“You and Kurt?”

“Yeah.”

“How's that going?”

“Good,” Blaine says, and finds he actually kind of means that. He doesn't know why Kurt insisted on changing their song. He'd thought Kurt's arrangement of _Bridge Over Troubled Water_ was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. But he likes their new idea too. “Oh, remind me to talk to the band after practice,” he tells Sam.

“Remember to talk to the band after practice,” Sam says.

Blaine elbows him in the ribs and laughs. “Jerk. You know what I meant.”

Sam shoves him back, laughing, and when he settles back into his chair Blaine catches Kurt's eyes across the room for just a moment. Kurt's watching them with a thoughtful expression, then quickly turns his head away when he realizes he's been caught.

Blaine wonders what that was all about.

**

“Okay, what's going on?”

Kurt stops a few steps from his car, just looks at Quinn leaning against the driver's side door, arms crossed. “Nothing. Hello to you too.”

Quinn shakes her head. “Don't give me that 'nothing' crap. You've been weird since Sunday. You're not responding to my texts and you've been avoiding me.”

“I haven't been avoiding you,” Kurt says. “Chill out, will you? It's only been two days. And my dad came home Monday, and yesterday I had to do a stupid glee club thing. Which is also where I'm headed this afternoon, so I kind of need to get going.”

Quinn squints his eyes at him. “Okay, so you've been busy. But something's still up. You're not okay.”

Kurt sighs, leans against the camper next to her, rubs his eyes. “All right. So . . . about Sunday -”

“This is about Sunday?”

“We can't do that again,” he tells her. “I just . . . can't.”

She doesn't ask why. “Okay. I think I'm getting back together with Richard anyway.”

“Richard the Dick?”

“He's explained things. I overreacted.”

“Good for you. That's great.”

“Listen -” She looks at him for a moment, concern on her face. “If you didn't want that, on Sunday, I'm sorry. I just – I wasn't in a very good place. I didn't mean to talk you into anything.”

“You didn't.” He bumps their shoulders together. “It's all good. I just think we shouldn't do it again. We're much better off as friends, don't you think? Everything else . . . It's just . . . it's gonna make things weird, eventually.”

“Yeah, probably.” She shrugs. “It was just – convenient.”

“Gee, thanks. You know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”

“Asshole.” She punches him, grinning. “That's not how I meant it and you know that. You were more than adequate.”

“Yeah, you too.” He turns to face her, grinning too. “So, we have an agreement?”

“Yeah. It's all good.”

“Good.” He hugs her before he leaves. They don't hug a lot. They're not huggers. But it feels right, this time.

His mood is better as he drives himself over to Blaine's house, and he can't work out what his brain is doing lately. But it seems he's just done something right and he won't question it any further. Things are better. That's good enough.

**

“The band is on board,” Blaine tells Kurt once they're settled upstairs in his room. No chance of using the piano downstairs this time. His mom is home, and she likes to hang out with Blaine's friends occasionally, so he thought it safer to take Kurt up here.

“Awesome,” Kurt says, and it sounds almost genuine.

“They're in demand a lot right now because a lot of the glee club want them to back their duets. So they've suggested just making a recording for us. I hope that's okay with you? I can text them and ask when they're free if you want a real rehearsal sometime this week.”

Kurt just shakes his head. “That's fine. Are we still gonna meet again tomorrow, then?”

“Yes,” Blaine confirms. “They said they'd email me the recording sometime tomorrow afternoon. So I think we should be all set for our rehearsal.”

So, what are we gonna do today? Without backing music?”

“I thought we could start by splitting up the lyrics,” Blaine suggests.

Kurt makes a face. “Can't you just sing all of it, and I'll just -” He waves a hand. “Sing some harmonies or whatever.”

Blaine thinks about it. “I – I mean. I suppose we could do that? But wouldn't it be easier to just split it evenly? That seems much closer to the assignment too.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you're really uncomfortable with that.”

Kurt picks up Blaine's pencil from his notepad that's sitting on the floor between them, twirls it between his fingers. “No, it's fine. We can do it your way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup. And I bet you have even started working out how to split it already.”

Blaine feels himself blush a little, laughs through it. “Am I that transparent?”

“You're a fucking nerd and kind of a teacher's pet,” Kurt says, but there's no venom in his voice. “Of course you're halfway done with our assignment before anyone else has even started.”

Blaine opens his notepad to show Kurt what he's been working on. “It saves you the trouble of doing it yourself,” he says, a little haughtily.

Kurt laughs. “Well, you're right about that.” There's a little pause. “Maybe working with you isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me.”

Blaine has no idea why his face is burning at Kurt's words, but he lowers his eyes and can't hold in the smile.

Working with Kurt isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to him either. One of the weirdest, yes. But . . . not the worst. Not at all.

**

Kurt finds he's getting used to his new routine more easily than he'd thought.

He goes to school, goes to his classes. He has lunch with Quinn, then more classes. He attends glee club, then meets up with Blaine – not every day because Blaine still has to attend superhero club some afternoons, even though he's skipping it more and more in order to meet up with Kurt most days. 

Then he goes home to have dinner with his dad, Carole, and Finn, then watches TV with his dad and Carole, and even Finn joins them occasionally, when there's a game on. 

Sometimes, they talk, he and his dad, almost like they used to, when Carole is working nights and Finn is out with friends and it's just the two of them. When they're all by themselves, the way they had been for so many years. Back when things had still been normal and good. 

Some nights he does his homework downstairs in the living room while his dad watches TV. 

Some nights, after he goes upstairs, he talks to Quinn on the phone. Some nights, Blaine texts him ideas for their project and he texts back, because ignoring Blaine's texts strangely just makes Blaine text more, or call him, even. Also, he doesn't mind talking with Blaine, not really. For a complete weirdo, Blaine's kind of okay.

They're not friends or anything, and he has no interest in becoming friends with Blaine. But . . . yeah. He is okay.

Kurt kind of likes that Blaine doesn't seem to be afraid of him. He doesn't seem to be judging him either, not for his attitude, not for his hair, not for his clothes. They just work together on their assignment and sometimes they even talk. Not about anything important. It's just – it's fun.

Blaine's a funny guy. Sometimes, when they're taking a break from working, he makes Kurt listen to weird music from the 70s and he even dances and sings along like he doesn't even care whether Kurt will make fun of him for it.

When they meet up on Saturday during their second week of working on their project, Blaine makes him lunch. It's sort of weird, but also sort of nice. They have sandwiches, and Blaine even puts together a salad. Kurt offers to help and ends up slicing tomatoes in Blaine's kitchen while Blaine is babbling away about something that happened in superhero club the other day. Something about Sam making them act out a piece of fanfiction, probably to show off how much he's improved his impressions, Blaine explains.

Blaine never mentions the fact that they're always meeting up at his house. Kurt is grateful for that. The thought of inviting Blaine into his home and having him meet his father – he's just not ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

The thing is, after this is over, they'll probably go back to being strangers.

It's better if he continues keeping some things to himself.

**

“You okay, Kurt?”

He looks up from his homework to meet his father's eyes, which are kind and a little worried. “Sure. Why do you ask?”

Burt shrugs. “'Cause I know you. And you've become quite good at hiding it, but I see you worrying and staring off into space when you think I won't notice. What's going on?”

“I'm okay, dad.” He does his best to smile. “Just tired. It's a lot, glee club and homework and all that.”

“Okay.” Burt says. “So this has nothing to do with Quinn breaking up with you?”

Kurt can feel his eyes widen. “How do you even know about that? And anyway, Quinn and I were just friends, we never -”

“Finn might have let something slip,” Burt says, then holds up a hand at the anger in Kurt's eyes. “By accident. He didn't mean to. The point is, I'm here if you want to talk, okay?”

“Okay, dad,” Kurt says, even though he'd like to say a lot more. Most of all, he has a few words for Finn, if he can track him down later.

He knows he's not actually going to say anything about it, though. Family drama is the last thing they need right now, and he and Finn have come to such a comfortable arrangement of leaving each other alone completely. He doesn't really want to risk that.

“Getting dumped sucks,” Burt says. “It may be hard to believe because I know I look like quite the catch,” he says, laughter in his voice, gesturing at his bald head and the blanket covering his legs, “but I got dumped a lot of times in my life. Made me feel like crap every time, I still remember that. So you can be in a crappy mood every now and then, is what I'm saying. Don't feel like you have to tiptoe around me and pretend to be okay when you're not, all right?”

Kurt nods. “I know that. But thanks. I just – I really am okay. It, um. Wasn't serious with Quinn.”

“Are you sure?” Burt asks, and all Kurt can do is nod again in response.

“Well, I'm here for you either way,” Burt promises and smiles warmly before turning his attention back to the sports magazine he's been reading.

Kurt stares down at his textbook and tries to focus, but his thoughts are wandering now. The thing is, he misses his best friend Quinn way more than he misses his casual hook up Quinn. They still have lunch and they talk, but something is off between them and it's getting to him.

He's never been through an actual break up because he's never been in a romantic relationship with anyone he had sex with, and never dated anyone at all. But sometimes when he has time to think about it, missing Quinn and the way they used to spend every free minute together feels the same way he thinks a real breakup would feel. Are friend breakups even a thing? But even if they were, he and Quinn are still friends. At least . . . well, at least that's what they're supposed to be.

**

Friday. They're four weeks into their assignment, performances are due next week, and it's pretty much all Blaine's able to think about these days.

He's walking down the hallway after lunch, Sam already off to his class, and he checks his phone one more time.

Tina has missed lunch and hasn't responded to any of his texts and he's beginning to worry a little. It's not like her to just disappear. He hopes she's okay. Although, if something was wrong, she'd have texted, wouldn't she?

He's early for his next class and the hallways are still deserted, so he hears the noises coming from the astronomy classroom – just clear enough for him to make out Tina's laugh.

Curious, he walks over to glance through the door that's just slightly ajar, ready to walk in and ask her where she's been all day, but he freezes in his tracks as he takes in the scene in front of his eyes.

There's Tina sitting on one of the desks, Mike next to her, and they're making out kind of intensely, groping each other everywhere and giggling and obviously lost in their own little world of two.

He backs away slowly, quietly, and turns to continue on his way down the hallway, now with his heart racing.

It's not that he's jealous. This is not what jealousy feels like. He's sure of it. He's not jealous, but then what is it that he's feeling?

He's feeling sick, his hands sweating and his stomach churning. He wishes he hadn't just seen that. Tina making out with Mike. Tina obviously really into making out with Mike. He kind of wants to throw up.

There wasn't a single time in their entire two-year relationship that he's made out with Tina like that. Not once.

Is this what she'd wanted from him all those years?

He has no idea what his feelings are doing. It's not that the idea of making out like that with a person he likes disgusts him. He . . . maybe he actually does feel a little jealous, but not because Mike is kissing Tina. It's because he wants what they have. He just doesn't want it with her. But . . . he loves her. Even now. He loves her.

It doesn't make sense. Nothing about this makes any sense.

Maybe he's just still in the denial stage? Is this even how the denial stage works? Or is this the anger stage? But he's not angry, is he?

He really has no idea. But he can't get the image of Mike and Tina together out of his brain for the entire rest of the day. And he doesn't know why.

**

Kurt can tell Blaine is distracted when they meet up that afternoon.

It's weird, because Blaine is usually in a good mood. He's usually so fucking happy it's actually annoying. Everything's the best, every song is great, the weather is awesome, he's just read a really good book, the last movie he saw was amazing, and he saw the cutest little kitten on his way home that day. Blaine has the fucking sun shining out of his fucking ass seven days a week, but today he almost seems angry.

They're up in Blaine's room even though the house is empty. Blaine has an updated recording of the band playing through a rock version of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ , and they've used it to rehearse the past few days. It's always Blaine who's pushing them to go over it again, to practice certain parts, to change things around. And he's always patient with Kurt, explaining things until Kurt gets them. But today, he's irritable and impatient.

Kurt's not really up for a confrontation, and he definitely doesn't want to ask Blaine what's wrong. They're not that kind of friends. But this is pissing him off a little.

Finally, Blaine throws his hands up in the air, gives him a glare Kurt has never seen on his face before. “We've been over this part a hundred times now and you're always early on the second line. This is not actually difficult, Kurt, can you maybe _try_ to get it right, at least?”

“Wow, okay.” Kurt takes a step back, stares at Blaine. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

Blaine sighs, turns off the song, shoulders slumping. “I'm sorry,” he says. “That was uncalled for.”

“Well, yeah,” Kurt says. “It kind of was.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine. I'm almost impressed. Didn't know you had it in you to actually be pissed.”

“It was probably my fault anyway. I was early too.”

“Listen.” Kurt takes another step back, looking at Blaine's back when Blaine turns to stare at his iPod dock. “If you're not up for this today, I can leave. We can -”

“The four weeks are almost up,” Blaine reminds him. “We have to get this down. We'll have to perform it sometime next week.”

“I know.”

“I'm fine,” Blaine says. “I just – I'm just distracted.” He walks over to his bed, and sits down on the edge of his mattress which dips slightly under his weight.

“Okay,” Kurt says. “Okay, so let's take a break.” He walks over and sits down next to Blaine because it's the only seat in the room with every other chair having sheet music or their bags sitting on it.

“I just saw Tina today,” Blaine explains, even though Kurt hasn't asked him to talk about it, would prefer not having to listen to this. “And it's nothing, really, I don't even know why I can't stop thinking about it. She was making out with Mike in the astronomy classroom.”

“Well, I guess seeing your ex-girlfriend make out with another guy can dampen your mood a little,” Kurt says lamely.

“No, it's not even that,” Blaine says, sighs deeply. “I'm not jealous. Just feeling weird about it.”

“You're not jealous?”

“Of course not. We broke up. And it makes sense she'd choose Mike over me.”

Kurt shakes his head at him. “That's kind of a weird thing to say.”

“Why?”

“Now you're just feeling sorry for yourself, aren't you?”

Blaine looks at him, something like surprise on his face. “No! That's not what I meant. I just meant, Mike is really hot. Of course she wants to be with him if she has the chance.”

Kurt grins at him. “Mike is really hot? Seriously?”

“Well, he is.”

“Now you sound like you're jealous of Tina. You wanna make out with Mike instead of her?” He's just trying to rile Blaine up a little, tease him to get him out of this weird mood. But Blaine looks almost upset.

“I don't,” he says. “I just said Mike is hot. That's simply stating a fact. You don't have to read into it.”

“You're gay, dude,” Kurt says. He can't help it. It's too easy, teasing Blaine like this. “You're gay and you're in love with Mike.”

“I'm not,” Blaine says adamantly. “I'm not in love with Mike. I'm just saying -”

“You didn't deny the gay part.”

“What's your deal?” Blaine sounds almost angry. “Are you gonna start making gay jokes now? You think being gay is a joke? So what if I were, would you beat me up for it?”

Kurt draws back a little, shocked by Blaine's sudden furious expression. “Blaine, no, I -”

“What, your fragile masculinity couldn't handle hanging out with a gay guy? Because you're seriously starting to sound more than a little homophobic.”

Now it's Kurt's turn to snap. Okay, maybe he overdid it with the teasing. But that's no reason to make assumptions about him. Angry and determined, he leans in and presses his lips to Blaine's, just a short, hard kiss right on the mouth.

It's over in a second, but Blaine's staring at him wide-eyed as he pulls back.

“There,” Kurt says. “My masculinity is just fine, thanks. And I have no problem with gay people. But you're looking a little shocked. Are you sure you're not the homophobe in this scenario?”

Blaine keeps staring for a second, then draws his eyebrows together. “There's nothing wrong with being gay,” he says. “I have no problem with gay people either.”

Kurt can't believe the next words out of his mouth. He has no idea where they are even coming from. Maybe it's just that he loves a challenge. Maybe he likes teasing Blaine. Maybe he's just an asshole. But what he says is, “Prove it.”

Blaine still looks angry as he leans in, but then they're kissing again, just a press of lips at first. But then Blaine shifts his head a little, and Kurt shifts his in response, the kiss deepens, and still they just sort of keep kissing.

He's not gonna pull back first, Kurt tells himself. If this is a competition, he's not gonna lose it.

But Blaine doesn't pull back either.

So they kiss. And they keep kissing. Kurt's not quite sure who initiates it, but suddenly there's tongue, and he finds himself reaching for Blaine's face to take control of the kiss at the same time he feels Blaine's hands coming up to grab his face.

He can't make sense of how this happening, or what is happening, or why it's happening. It just . . . sort of . . . does.

Probably because neither of them is stopping. Neither one of them seems to want to give in first. So they push each other, take it a step further, and another, and another. Probably to make the other pull back and admit defeat first, or simply because they're idiots and have both lost their minds. He doesn't know.

They end up on the bed together, wrestling each other until Kurt's on his back, Blaine on top of him. He really does stop caring at this point, his brain probably short-circuited because he's really fucking hard in his pants and Blaine is rubbing against him right where he needs it, and fuck, it just feels, it feels . . . fuck. He's just not gonna stop first. He's just. Not.

There's not even any time to take their clothes off. It just happens, and happens, and doesn't stop happening until Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and almost tears Blaine's stupid yellow-checkered shirt when his hands clench in it, heat flooding him. He comes in his pants with Blaine above him still panting and rutting against him frantically.

It only takes another moment, just a few more thrusts, until Blaine's mouth drops open, face scrunched up, his body going kind of rigid on top of Kurt as he lets out a strangled-sounding moan.

Kurt sinks back against Blaine's now rumpled bed and Blaine rolls off to the side, lying there panting next to him.

He can feel his head spinning a little, body still humming with aftershocks from the orgasm. He's trying very hard to get his breathing back under control, but it's difficult – he has no idea what it was they just did. Well, no, he does. But he can't really wrap his mind around it.

His skin is buzzing and he doesn't know what any of this means, he doesn't understand.

But he's kind of starting to freak out. A little. Okay. Maybe a lot.

“Wow,” Blaine breathes.

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Kurt thinks about it, but his mind won't stop spinning. He sits up. “I don't know,” he says. “But I think I have to go.”

“I – yeah. I guess.” Blaine sounds unsure.

“I – I'll just -” Kurt scrambles off Blaine's bed. The mess in his pants is getting uncomfortable. He needs to go home and sneak in without anyone seeing him and he needs to shower. And burn his underwear, and probably his pants too.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks, leaning up on his elbows, his face red, his clothes in disarray, curls of his hair broken free of the gel and sticking up all over his head. 

He looks like someone who just finished having sex.

With Kurt.

Is he okay? It's a really stupid question, Kurt thinks for some reason. “I'm fine,” he says. “You?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'll – I'll see you later.”

“We have to practice tomorrow,” Blaine says, and Kurt almost wants to laugh hysterically.

They just angrily had sex with each other completely out of the blue and neither of them seem to know why they did that. But Blaine has to make sure they won't miss rehearsal time.

“Sure,” he says. “Bye.”

Blaine doesn't say anything back as Kurt slips out of his room and hurries down the stairs and out of the house.

He'd known from the start this duet assignment would only lead to trouble. This is just not the kind of trouble he's been expecting.

**

Blaine listens to Kurt's footsteps on the stairs, the pause while he's putting on his shoes. And then the front door falls shut with a bang and Blaine feels himself deflate, the last of the tension seeping out of his body.

He collapses back onto his bed, lies there staring up at the ceiling.

So, he thinks. That's what it feels like to have sex with a guy.

He has no idea why he did that and he can feel himself freaking out about it as his body slowly comes down from the high. He just had sex with Kurt.

Whatever else it was, he knows that above all else it was a really bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

He had sex with Kurt.

He had _sex_. With _Kurt_.

And the worst thing about this already pretty weird thing is that he'd actually wanted to.

There's a mess cooling in his pants glueing his underwear to his balls and he needs to take care of that. He also seriously needs to calm down because he's started trembling and his palms are sweaty and his heart is racing and it's not an aftereffect from the orgasm anymore. It's panic that's rising up in his chest.

He had sex with Kurt. With a guy. 

With _Kurt_. 

With a _guy_.

He tries to calm his breathing, tries to get the shaking under control, but it's not really working.

Maybe he just has to remove the physical evidence first. It's uncomfortable, and it's also making it impossible to really think about this with a clear head, having this sticky-cold reminder soaking his underwear.

So he rolls off the bed, struggles out of his pants and drops them on the floor, staggers his way to the shower. The hot water washes him clean, turns his skin lobster-red, and he just stands there, wet curls plastered to his forehead, feeling exhausted.

He waits until the water starts running cold before he turns it off, dries himself superficially, staggers back to his room where he just about manages to pull on clean underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His hands are still shaking a little.

He takes his clothes down to the basement and starts a load of laundry. Washing just a pair of pants would look suspicious if anyone came home now. The soiled underwear he puts in the trash, then takes the trash out so he can clean up all traces of his afternoon activities.

By the time he's back in his room, sitting back down on his bed and starting the Avengers movie on his laptop, his breathing has calmed, his hands are steadier.

The movie is supposed to keep him distracted, keep him from thinking, but it's not working. Maybe he should have chosen something he hasn't seen a dozen times with Sam before.

There's a thought, one persistent little thought that just pushes its way back into his head every time he thinks he's finally suppressed it.

All the time he'd been with Tina, she'd always been the one to initiate sex. She'd known how to get him hard most of the time and he'd gone along with it because it was sex and who didn't like having an orgasm? But the thing is, he'd never thought of it first. And he'd always been happy to let her take the initiative and just let her do whatever she wanted to get them both there.

But this afternoon, he'd just . . . become so hard so fast, just from kissing Kurt. And he'd pushed him onto his back, climbed on top of him and just gone kind of wild. He'd _wanted_ it. A lot. More than he ever had before. Once they'd started, he'd been so fucking hungry for it, it had just felt kind of amazing. And it hadn't just been about the payoff. It had been about the very act of doing it.

And no matter what he tries to tell himself, that has simply never happened before.

He's thought about himself after his issues with Tina, and he's read up on all of it, and he's just never been sure. But now he thinks he has an idea what it all means and that scares him.

Because he's afraid that it will change everything.

**

Kurt enters the house quietly, hears the sounds of Carole making dinner from the kitchen, the TV on in the living room where his dad has taken up permanent residence for now.

He tiptoes upstairs, gets out of his disgusting clothes, and takes a very long, very hot shower. He dresses in clean clothes afterwards and starts a load of laundry immediately. No one will think anything of it. Laundry has been his job for a long time.

Once he's done, he hesitates on top of the stairs – he's not feeling much like company, but if he shuts himself away all night he'll have too much time alone to think. And he doesn't want to think about this. There is nothing to think about. He did a stupid thing and that's all there is to it.

Dinner's ready by the time he makes it back downstairs.

“Oh,” Carole says. “I was just about to send Finn upstairs to get you.”

“Want me to help with anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “All taken care of. You were quiet when you came back earlier. Is everything all right?”

He waves a hand at her. “Oh, yeah. I just spilled coffee on myself and my shirt was all wet, so I had to shower and start some laundry. It's all good.”

“Okay,” she says, and smiles at him.

Finn's had a long football practice this afternoon and tells them all about it with his mouth full over dinner. Usually, Kurt would be making some sort of snarky remark about it, but he doesn't want to start a fight that might upset his dad, and also, he just doesn't really care today. It's not like it matters.

After dinner he clears the table and he does the dishes with Finn, who keeps throwing glances at him. It's unsettling. He doesn't want to be looked at.

“Did I do something wrong?” Finn asks eventually. “Because if I did, I'm sorry.”

Kurt snorts. He knows Finn is asking about some specific thing he might have done wrong, but still, it's kind of a funny question for a guy who's been standing by and watching his friends harass and physically assault Kurt for-fucking-ever. “Nope,” he says. “Everything's fine.”

“Then why are you frowning like that?” Finn wants to know.

“This is just my face, Finn.” Kurt sighs. “Why do you care all of a sudden?”

“Look, dude -” Finn shrugs, almost drops the plate he's drying, puts it down on the counter before he continues. “I'm trying, okay?”

It's Kurt's turn to shrug. “Whatever,” he says.

Finn gives him another long look, then goes back to drying dishes. Kurt knows Finn is not inherently a bad guy, he's just as caught up in the mess of being human as everyone else is. But his life is complicated enough as it is. He doesn't need to add the stress of mending things with Finn to all of that right now.

All through the evening as he watches TV with his dad, Kurt kind of expects Blaine to call, or at least text him. As much as Kurt just wants to forget about it, because it didn't mean anything, he suspects Blaine is going to be the type to make this into a _thing_. He'll probably want to talk about it, and Kurt's dreading the moment he'll be faced with that.

But his phone stays quiet. Blaine doesn't call, doesn't text. Kurt's relieved when he finally goes to bed without having heard from him at all. Or . . . at least he thinks he is. Today has just been a confusing mess and he simply needs it to be over.


	6. Chapter 6

After the weird silence Friday night, Blaine doesn't call on Saturday either. Which is good, Kurt tells himself. It is. It's what he wants.

Kurt spends the day doing some homework, and texting with Quinn a little who's spending the weekend in Columbus with Richard the Dick. Apparently, he got them a hotel room there and they're seeing a play together. A fucking play of all things.

_How old is this guy?_ He texts her.

_Older_ , she writes back.

_What does that mean?_

It takes her a few minutes to reply. _36\. And I don't even wanna hear it, Kurt._

He stares down at his phone, trying to wrap his head around this. Whether she wants to hear it or not, he's gonna say it. _He's using you._

_You don't know that._

He scoffs. _Yeah, I do. He's 36. What else does he want with a 17year old high school girl?!? He's using you!_

She doesn't write back for almost ten minutes. He checks his email, tries working a bit more at his math homework. When her reply finally comes, he just keeps staring at it for and endless minute.

_And you //weren't// just using me all this time?_

It's unfair. He knows she knows that too, and she still sent it. Ignoring the tightness in his chest, he turns off his phone, puts down his pen, and walks downstairs to play a few rounds of Scrabble with his dad and Carole.

**

After thinking he'd gotten away without having to have a 'talk,' he wakes up to a text from Blaine on Sunday morning.

_We should practice one more time today._

He groans, rolls over onto his stomach to hide his face in the pillow. What has to happen for this guy to finally just leave him the fuck alone?

He gets out of bed and takes his time getting ready and having breakfast with his dad before he opens up the text again, thinks about it.

The problem is that he knows Blaine quite well by now, and that he knows Blaine's intense need to follow the rules and do everything just right. Chances are that if he does the easy thing and simply ignores this and doesn't respond, Blaine will show up at his house and ring the doorbell until Kurt lets him in and sings a song with him. Seriously. He wouldn't put it past him.

_Fine_ , is all he writes back.

Blaine responds almost immediately, like always. _Come over to my house?_

_When?_ Kurt asks.

_Two-ish? Does that work for you?_

_Sounds good_ , Kurt texts back, and gets his homework from his room to finish it downstairs so that he can sit in the living room with his dad while Carole is at work.

**

Blaine knows inviting Kurt back over might not have been the best idea. But he has reasons. He may be busy working through his own issues and he'd much rather spend the day alone and work out some things about himself. But.

Reason Number One for Inviting Kurt Back Over: they really do have an assignment to finish, and they need this afternoon to perfect it so they can perform it in front of everyone.

Reason Number Two for Inviting Kurt Back Over: if they stay away from each other now and let this become weird, let this grow into a Big Thing, they might never be able to be in the same room ever again without things being really uncomfortably awkward. And Blaine is starting to understand that that's not what he wants. At all.

Kurt shows up just a minute after two, and Blaine feels a little bad for being afraid he wouldn't show at all.

“A bit of a perfectionist, are you?” Kurt says in lieu of a greeting as he pushes past Blaine into the house.

“We always said we'd meet once more over the weekend,” Blaine reminds him.

Kurt's kneeling on the floor to unlace one of his boots, doesn't look up. “I should have known better than to hope you'd forget.”

There's nothing different in his voice, no weird looks in his direction, and Blaine feels relief. This isn't weird. They haven't ruined their . . . well, not friendship, but whatever this is between them. “You should really know me better than that by now.”

The corner of Kurt's mouth twitches with the smallest grin and Blaine grins back, almost forgetting to feel shy and flustered about the fact that Kurt has seen him come in his pants in the other day.

They practice up in Blaine's room for more than two hours, with a short break to have a cup of coffee. They talk like normal, during their break, about glee club of all things.

“I just don't understand how we can be going through so many iconic rock groups and not cover Queen at all,” Kurt says, exasperated. “Not even a mention of it?”

“Maybe we'll get to it yet.”

“We should have started with it!”

“You can always prepare something by yourself and sing it,” Blaine suggests.

“Yeah. That's definitely not ever going to happen.”

It's normal, almost fun. Things are a little strained, as they're very careful not to touch while they practice their minimal choreography. They don't talk about anything remotely personal, which Kurt has never really done anyway, now that Blaine thinks about it. But more than ever before they both seem to be doing their best to steer the conversation firmly away from anything that might touch upon their private lives.

But that's okay. After all, considering what he expected this afternoon to be, it's really going well. Kurt's smile is a little tense sometimes, they don't meet each other's eyes when they talk. But, well. They always kind of behaved like that around each other. Not really anything to be worried about.

“Is your house always empty?” Kurt asks finally, when they're done and he's putting his shoes back on. “Do you even have parents or do you live here alone?”

Blaine laughs. It's the first conversation topic that doesn't involve school, books or music. “My dad travels a lot for work. He's a business adviser. Mom's working too, as a real estate agent, and on the weekends she has a lot of events and stuff. She has trouble sitting still for too long.”

“Hmm,” Kurt says, staring at his shoes as if he's already regretting the question. “Well, okay. I guess I'll see you at school?”

“Yeah. See you,” Blaine says, and it suddenly occurs to him that this is the end of their project. They're done practicing. Effective immediately, they no longer have any reason to hang out after school. He feels a little stab through his heart. “Kurt -” he starts, breaks off.

Kurt stands with one hand on the doorknob and looks at him, and his eyes are scared. “Don't,” he says.

“I was just gonna say -” Blaine swallows. “I really liked . . . working with you. I – I like that we're . . .” He hesitates, but he has to know. “Friends?”

Kurt looks down at the floor for a few long seconds and doesn't say anything. “It was fun,” he answers finally, in a low voice, opens the door and leaves.

_It was fun._

Blaine stands there and considers the full meaning of that sentence, all the possible interpretations of it.

He really hopes he's right about what it meant.

**

They are the second ones to perform on Monday afternoon, right after Mike and Tina who do a lot of dancing together, which actually looks really good.

Kurt can't deny that he's a bit nervous, but they've practiced this, and it takes just a few minutes. Just a few minutes of making a complete fool of himself.

The band is there with them and even though they've only ever practiced with the recording, it all goes off without a hitch. Blaine was apparently right when he said those band people were geniuses.

Once they've started, it isn't actually that bad, Kurt discovers. Blaine's a total pro at this and maybe he was right to make them have all those rehearsals, because Kurt is able to completely shut off his brain now while they're singing together. The applause and the cheering afterwards makes him uncomfortable, but at least it marks the end of this particular hell.

For just a moment he tries to remember why he used to love this. Why he used to dream of people cheering for him. Why he dreamed of doing this for real. Before everything changed.

But then they sit back down and he's done it, he's made it through, he's survived this four-week assignment he'd thought would never, ever end. Blaine smiles at him from across the room and Kurt finds himself actually smiling back. Blaine's a good guy. He could have had it a lot worse. And now he's never going to have to do this again.

He's glad that Blaine takes it upon himself to answer all of Mr. Schue's questions and explain why they picked this song and why they arranged it the way they did. Mr. Schue lets them know that he's impressed and that they did a great job, but Kurt doesn't need or want his approval. He already knows they did well.

They listen to everyone else's performances, and they're all kind of . . . okay? Kurt doesn't hate them. Rachel and Brittany are a bit weird as Rachel sings a really long solo while Brittany dances around her, but individually, they're really good. He has to give them that.

Sam and Mercedes are adorable. Probably his favorite of all the duets. And they actually sing together, which Kurt kind of thought was the point of all this even though not many of the other pairs have really done much of it. He wonders if he's turning into Blaine, thinking about the point of this assignment as if he actually gives a fuck.

“All right,” Mr. Schue says excitedly once they're through listening to everyone and he's given his feedback, which mostly consisted of telling everyone they were rock stars. “I feel like this has really brought us closer together as a group. I really think this experience will help us be a better team for the competition season -”

“When is competition season anyway?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes, who has taken the seat next to him after her duet.

“Our invitational is in January,” she whispers back.

_January_. “Oh.” Kurt sits back in his chair, puzzled. He'd been wondering why they were only talking about 80s groups instead of preparing for the Invitational, even though competitions are all anyone talks about as if they're next weekend. It kind of makes sense now. January is still, well, a while away.

“So,” Mr. Schue is saying. “Since the duets were such a huge success and you all did such great jobs with them, why don't we take it up a notch? Let's do group numbers next!”

Kurt feels his jaw drop. So much for being done with wasting his time on extracurricular group projects after school.

“You can keep working with your duet partners, if you want,” Mr. Schue tells them graciously. “But not only with them. Group numbers! Okay? Four people per group! Find your groups, and you can use the rest of the lesson to start preparing!”

“Mr. Schue?” Rachel's hand shoots up in the air. “How long will we have to prepare for this? I feel like group numbers will take a lot more time to work out and rehearse, and we really should be starting our competition prep soon, I already have several ideas for songs that might work quite well for m-, uh, for us -”

“You're right, Rachel,” Schue says. “We have to get serious about our competition prep. So, to leave you enough time for everything else, we'll hear your group numbers . . . in January. After Christmas break. Does that sound good?”

Approving murmurs rise around the room, and Kurt drops his head into his hands, tries not to moan out loud. This is just perfect.

“Kurt?” A voice speaks up in front of him. It's Sam.

“What?” He can't really help it if he sounds a little rude.

“Um,” Sam says. “Do you have a group already? Because we've only got three people so far, Blaine, Mercedes and me. Tina wants to be in Mike's group with Artie and Matt, so. . .”

“Of course I don't have a group yet,” Kurt says, a little more harshly than he means to.

Sam doesn't seem offended. “Cool. You wanna join us?”

Kurt suppresses the sigh that wants to escape his chest. He's suddenly tired. “Okay,” he says more softly, catching Mercedes' skeptical look. “Thanks.”

“You're in?” Sam asks. “Awesome, dude.” He waves Blaine over, who joins them in the back row immediately. “Kurt's in!”

“Great,” Blaine says and smiles at him.

Kurt crosses his arms and asks himself how he could ever be naïve enough to believe that anything could ever be truly easy.

**

“Looks like we're stuck together for a while longer, huh?” Blaine asks, then kicks himself for his choice of words.

Kurt looks over his shoulder, one hand still in his locker, gripping a thick-looking textbook. “Yeah. Looks that way.”

Blaine makes himself grin. He likes the thought of getting to spend more time with Kurt, but he knows Kurt probably sees that differently and he wishes he could make this easier for him. “So, uh, listen.” He clears his throat. “Sam and Mercedes and I talked just now and we thought we could do brunch Saturday and talk this over? If that works for you?”

Kurt sighs and goes back to rummaging through his locker before pulling out his book and stuffing it into his bag. “Fine, okay. Saturday brunch.”

“My place,” Blaine says. “Around eleven?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome,” Blaine says. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean,” he keeps babbling, “I'll see you before then too, of course. In glee club. Not that I won't see you again before Saturday. I just meant -”

“Blaine,” Kurt cuts him off, and his eyes aren't as angry as the thin line of his mouth suggests.

“Yes?”

“I'll see you in glee club tomorrow.”

He opens and closes his mouth, watching as Kurt closes his locker, turns and walks away. “See you tomorrow,” he calls after him as Kurt's already disappearing around the corner.

**

The week goes by slowly. Kurt spends more time at home now that he doesn't have to meet with Blaine all the time. He'd wanted it to end, and now that it has, at least temporarily for the rest of the week, he almost doesn't know what to do with himself.

He's angry a lot. He tries not to analyze why, but sitting in his house on Thursday afternoon it occurs to him during one of his now numerous quiet moments, that he's angry about this new group project, and he's angry about the new group project because he's not really angry about being stuck with it. He's angry at himself for not being angry about being stuck in a group project with those weirdos.

The realization makes him laugh out loud, right where he's sitting on the couch in the living room.

His dad looks up from where he's reading the newspaper in his armchair, nods at the book Kurt's holding. “Something funny?”

“Oh,” Kurt says, holding up his battered copy of _Thank You, Jeeves_. “Yeah. Pretty funny.”

“Your hair's different,” his dad says, kind of out of nowhere. “I only just noticed. The pink's fading.”

Kurt runs a hand over his head. “Oh. Yeah. I think I'll let it go brown again. Maybe remove the dye completely.” He's only ever dyed it when Quinn talked him into it. There have been a lot of different colors over the years, though the pink has probably been his favorite.

“For good?”

“Maybe. Oh, before I forget. I have a Saturday brunch with a few glee club people. I think I'll be back sometime in the afternoon.”

His dad looks at him quietly for a little while. “Kurt, you're allowed to go hang out with your friends. You don't need to babysit me all the time.”

Kurt nods, not knowing what to say. Of course he's allowed, it's not like he doesn't know that. He also knows that his dad wants him to have friends and his own life. It's just that neither one of them knows how long his dad's gonna be able to hang in there before . . . before . . . He'd never get over it if something happened and he'd spent most of his time being out with other people.

Carole wouldn't abandon him. He knows that. She wouldn't do that. And he and Finn don't really get along most of the time, but even Finn would probably have his back if something bad happened. Every time things have looked really grim he'd been pretty amazing with helping out, even if they always eventually go back to not talking and avoiding each other.

Kurt can't really forgive him yet for standing by and looking away while his friends threw Kurt into dumpsters. But Finn has been trying periodically in his clumsy, awkward way to fix things between them, and Kurt thinks he'd at least try to be there for him if . . . if . . .

“I'm not babysitting you, dad,” he says. “Just catching up on some reading.”

“That for school?”

“Nah, just for fun.”

They both go back to their reading, Kurt to his book and Burt to his newspaper. Kurt finds he really kind of likes these quiet afternoons when everything just seems . . . almost like boring, everyday life. He likes that a lot.

**

Blaine's just carrying the cheese plate through into the living room where he's set things up for their brunch – everyone's bringing some food – when the doorbell rings.

“I'll get it,” his mom calls from the kitchen. She's going to go out in a few minutes to a brunch of her own, but she insisted on making a fruit platter for Blaine and his friends first. Blaine thinks she's just sticking around to catch a glimpse of Kurt. The two have always missed each other so far every time Kurt has been over, and he's rather happy about that. But he knew he couldn't keep this from happening forever. His mom likes befriending his friends way too much. He thinks it's part of her efforts to be a cool mom.

He puts down his cheese plate and spreads the huge floor cushions around the coffee table. He got them out of the hall closet earlier. They're left over from his mom's hippie phase a few years ago, which had lasted approximately two months but has left a lot of weird appliances and decorations around the house, including a craft corner in the guest room and few a weird crocheted wall hangings in the foyer with patterns so stressfully colorful that they make Blaine dizzy every time he looks at them too long. The cushions are coming in handy now, though. Sitting around the coffee table seems a lot more cozy than working in the kitchen or the huge, cold dining room they never even use.

Muffled voices are coming from the foyer and Blaine makes his way there to see which one of his friends has arrived first. To his surprise, it's Kurt. He's dressed in his usual attire of skinny jeans and boots, and today a dark blue hoodie that looks a little faded. But the pink in his hair, which had been fading out for a while, is gone. There's now a single blue streak in his swept up bangs instead, but otherwise his hair is brown. A soft sort of light brown. In his hands, he's holding a large Tupperware container. He looks . . . good. Not that he doesn't usually look good. But today he just looks . . . Blaine doesn't really know what to call it. But it's good.

“He used to perform with his brother all the time when he was a little kid,” his mother is just telling Kurt, who's wearing a delighted grin on his face. “We taped it all. I had it copied from the old VHS cassettes to DVDs a few years ago. It was all so adorable I simply had to save all the videos. I always knew he'd be a performer one day.”

“Mom,” Blaine says, mortified. “Kurt doesn't want to hear about all of that.”

“On the contrary,” Kurt says, smirking at Blaine. “I'd love to see those videos sometime.”

His mom looks at Blaine, eyes widened as if she knows she's just made a mistake. “Oh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims loudly. “I really should get going if I don't want to be late, I still have to pick up Cheryl, her car's in the shop.” She steps into her shoes, grabs her purse off the side table. “Have a nice brunch, honey. I have my phone, call me if you need anything.” She gives Blaine a quick hug and he kisses her cheek, and then she's gone, the door falling shut behind her.

“I like your mom,” Kurt says, an amused sparkle in his eyes.

Blaine groans and hides his face behind his hands. He likes his mom too, but she's just a little much sometimes. “What did she say to you?”

“Relax,” Kurt says. “We're saving the baby pictures for next time. Here.” He hands Blaine the plastic container. “Cinnamon rolls.”

“Awesome,” Blaine says, motioning at Kurt to follow him through into the living room. “Sam and Mercedes should be here any second.”

“Can't wait,” Kurt says.

Blaine can't tell anymore if that's sarcasm or if Kurt actually means it. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

**

“Dude, did you make these?” Sam asks through a mouthful of cinnamon roll, waving his half-eaten roll at Kurt.

“Yup,” Kurt says, spreading cream cheese on one of the bagels Mercedes brought. “Last night.”

“I still have a can at home I've been meaning to bake,” Sam says.

“Oh.” Kurt shakes his head. “Yeah, I don't like using the pre-made stuff. I made these from scratch, actually.”

“Wait, what?” Blaine stares at him and Kurt feels himself blush. “You know how to bake?”

He shrugs, doesn't want to talk about it. “I mean. Not really. Just the basics.”

“These are really good,” Mercedes says.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat. “So, how about that group number, huh?” It works like a charm. These people can always be distracted with music. He files that information away for later.

“I've made a list,” Blaine says immediately, pulling a notepad out from under his floor cushion.

“Of course you have,” Sam says, and Mercedes laughs.

“I like to be prepared!” Blaine sounds a little exasperated. “We can start with your suggestions, if you want? I don't want to just take over . . .”

“Yeah, I think none of us have any since we sort of assumed you'd already have a mile-long list we could work from.” Sam pats Blaine's shoulder affectionately.

“It's just three pages,” Blaine says sulkily.

“Single spaced and sorted alphabetically,” Mercedes points out, glancing over Blaine's notepad.

Kurt eats his bagel and watches them, smiling to himself.

**

They settle on _Don't Stop_ by Fleetwood Mac. Kurt thinks he can live with that. He's not a big Fleetwood Mac fan, but considering that Blaine had actually included three Katy Perry songs on his list, he thinks they did make a very good choice in the end.

Sam brought his guitar and plays the song through a few times and Blaine and Mercedes sing along. They don't push Kurt to join them. Eventually, he'll have to. He knows that. But for now, listening is a nice start.

Blaine has a good voice, and so does Sam, and he thinks he could listen to Mercedes sing forever. If she doesn't make it as an artist, Kurt thinks, none of the others even stand a chance. Some people just have all the talent.

It's after three by the time they start clearing the table, preparing to leave.

“I actually have to get a move on,” Mercedes says. “I have choir practice in half an hour. Sam, you still okay with dropping me off? I can text my mom to come get me.”

“No!” Sam says, a little too loudly. “No, I'll drop you off. No problem. Let's go!”

Kurt watches as Sam hurriedly gives Blaine a hug, then holds up his hand toward Kurt. For a moment, he's confused, then he understands, lifts his own hand to accept the high five. “Later, dude,” Sam says, and grabs his guitar.

“Thanks for having us over, Blaine,” Mercedes says.

Blaine nods. “Anytime. Thanks for all the food!”

Mercedes looks straight at Kurt and smiles. “See you, Kurt,” she says.

He doesn't know why this makes him feel so warm inside, but he smiles back. “Bye,” he says. And then he and Blaine are alone.

“That went well,” Blaine says.

Kurt nods. “Yeah. I guess I should . . . go.”

It's been fine, so far. More than fine. But now that they're alone in this big empty house the memory of what happened last time is very vivid in his mind.

“You don't have to leave,” Blaine says.

“I really think I do,” Kurt disagrees.

“Okay.” Blaine follows him to the front door, and he looks like he wants to say something. Kurt waits with his hand on the doorknob, but nothing happens.

“Bye, Blaine,” he says eventually.

“I'll text you,” Blaine promises.

Kurt knows he will. He's juts not sure if he wants him to.


	7. Chapter 7

They have a lot of time for their group project, so they don't have to meet every day the way he and Kurt did for the duet. But they do meet a lot.

Blaine invites everyone over to his house most of the time because it's easiest – it's just sitting there big and empty with his dad constantly gone (he's staying in California until the new year now for some big project) and his mom keeping busy with her job and her various charity projects and friends.

Occasionally, they meet at the Lima Bean, but Blaine has coffee at his house too, and Sam can't afford a lot of Lima Bean coffees. And while Blaine would be more than happy to pay for him, he knows that's not what Sam wants either.

Days turn into weeks and fall is in full swing, and Blaine has a lot of fun trying out homemade pumpkin spice latte to serve to his friends. Even Kurt seems to like it. At least he doesn't say he hates it, which is pretty much the equivalent to an enthusiastic endorsement from Kurt. It makes Blaine happy.

Today, a Friday night, they're meeting at Breadstix for a change. They're calling it a team dinner, but Blaine's not really expecting them to get a lot of work done. It's a Friday night, after all.

Kurt's reluctant when Blaine invites him, finding him by his locker between classes. “Team dinner tonight at Breadstix?”

“No,” Kurt says. “I can't.”

Blaine lifts his shoulders. “I know it's lame for a Friday night out, so if you have other plans -”

“I do,” Kurt interrupts him.

“Okay, what if we make it an early dinner? Just stop by for a bit and . . . yeah.”

“I don't know,” Kurt says. “Does it have to be tonight?”

“I mean, you really don't have to stay long,” Blaine offers, slightly frustrated. “Do you wanna go to my house so you don't have to be seen with us?”

“No, it's not that,” Kurt says, hesitates. “It's just – family dinners on Friday nights are, um. Kind of a thing? At my house.”

“Oh.” Blaine feels bad for making assumptions, tries a placating grin. “Come on. You can't skip just this once?”

Kurt doesn't smile back. “Yeah, I really don't know. I don't think so.”

“I'm paying,” Blaine says. “My dad sent me a ridiculously generous gift card to make up for never being home.”

“Everyone else is going?”

“Sam and Mercedes, yeah. We thought we'd meet there at seven?”

Kurt sighs, looks down at his hands for a long moment. “Fine,” he says, sounding resigned. “Whatever. Just this once.”

Blaine doesn't like the closed off look on Kurt's face, but he has no idea what to do about it and he doesn't want Kurt to back out if he pushes him to talk. “I'm looking forward to it,” he says.

Kurt just nods at him, closes his locker, and walks away.

Through the rest of the day, Blaine can't help but worry about him a little. But when he's walking to class after lunch, he sees Kurt and Mercedes just outside a classroom, talking to each other. She's touching his arm and grinning at something he's saying. Blaine walks on, reassured at least a little that Kurt's okay.

It's the strangest thing, Kurt and Mercedes. He doesn't think they actually hang out after their rehearsal sessions, but they just seem to click on some level. He sees them talking before and after glee club sometimes, and occasionally Mercedes joins Kurt in the back row without a word and he smiles at her. He smiles at her more than Blaine has ever seen him smile at anyone. He didn't know Kurt actually did that, smiling at people for seemingly no reason whatsoever.

Sometimes he thinks of Kurt walking in during that rehearsal at the beginning of the school year, flinging himself into a chair and refusing to even acknowledge any of them.

Kurt's still not exactly big on expressing himself and he always stays in the back. But . . . well, they've made progress, haven't they? Kurt might not see it that way. He'd probably get really angry if Blaine were to tell him this. But it doesn't change what Blaine is seeing. Kurt is part of the glee club. Reluctantly. In his very own, very Kurt-ish way. But they've taken him in. And Blaine is glad about that on Kurt's behalf, if Kurt can't quite be glad about it himself just yet.

**

It's not an easy thing for Kurt, missing Friday night dinner. He still remembers that huge fight he had with his dad all those years ago, just days before they learned about his diagnosis. Not one single Friday since then has he taken those dinners for granted. Sure, he's had to miss a few. His dad has missed a few as well during his various stays in the hospital.

Kurt pushes the thought away and gets out of his camper in the Breadstix parking lot.

“Hey,” a voice calls out to him, and he closes and locks his car door, turns around to wave at Mercedes.

“Hey yourself.” He's not big on small talk, but it's simply impossible to be rude to Mercedes.

“Glad you could make it.” She falls into step next to him.

“Well. I couldn't really say no to a free dinner. I mean, if Blaine's paying -”

She laughs. “Yeah, that's true. Oh, hey, I emailed you the thing you wanted, check your inbox!”

“Oh!” He gets out his phone, opens the email app. “Yes! There it is. Thanks!” She's somehow managed to make him admit to his (very, very) secret love for _Dreamgirls_ , and she'd admitted in return that she'd recorded herself singing some of the songs. He'd asked for the files. He can't wait to listen to them.

“You're welcome.”

“Quinn would never stop making fun of me if she knew about this.” The words slip out before he can stop himself.

Mercedes looks thoughtful. “I wouldn't be so sure,” she says. “Did she ever tell you she lived with me for a few weeks when she was pregnant sophomore year?”

Kurt nods. “Yes, I knew about that.”

“She tries to hide it pretty well these days, but. She's nice,” Mercedes says.

“She said the same thing about you once. Not that we talked a lot about glee club.”

Mercedes laughs. “Yeah, I get it. But . . . we missed her when she left. I mean, I can't say I blame her for going off the rails a little. That girl's been through hell.”

“Yeah.” Kurt thinks about his former best friend and Richard the thirty-six year old Dick and swallows hard.

“I guess all that can make a person go a little crazy. Not that there's anything wrong with either of you.” Mercedes throws him a quick look. “That's not what I meant, you know that, right? You're really not a bad guy, Kurt.”

“I know a bunch of people who'd disagree with you,” he points out.

She stops, and he turns to look at her. “No,” she says. “They're wrong. You know, I think we're actually a lot alike, you and I.”

Kurt almost laughs. “How so?”

“People take one look at us and decide they know exactly who we are. What we're like.”

He thinks about that. “Isn't that true for everyone?”

“Maybe.” She resumes walking, and he follows. “But we're the kind of people who get discarded or forgotten after one look. We both know how that feels.”

He doesn't answer. But he thinks about her words for a long time.

Blaine and Sam are already there and they join them at their table.

“I'm glad you could make it,” Blaine echoes Mercedes' words from the parking lot.

“I'm glad you're paying,” Kurt says, and Sam laughs and punches him in the arm, which Kurt has learned by now is a sign of friendship for guys like Sam. He's starting to be okay with that. Maybe.

**

Blaine was right expecting them to get exactly no work done this evening. Instead, they talk and laugh and have a good time. Even Kurt, he thinks. Kurt doesn't say much and grimaces more than he laughs, but he showed up. He stays.

“And did you see Artie's face when Rachel started screaming at him?” Sam imitates Artie's scared face. “I really thought for a second he was gonna leave the room!”

“Seriously!” Mercedes chimes in. “Rachel needs to chill out about other people covering Barbra. I actually liked Artie's rap version.”

“It was something new,” Blaine agrees. “He definitely didn't deserve getting yelled at for it.”

“Does Schuester ever interfere when stuff like this happens?” Kurt asks.

“I mean, when it's Rachel?” Sam shrugs. “Not really.”

“She's talented, and Mr. Schue lets her get away with a lot because of it.” Mercedes sighs. “She's kind of our star, you know?”

Blaine watches as Kurt tilts his head, squints his eyes. “Well,” Kurt says. “She's really good, yeah. But -” he waves at Mercedes. “You're better.”

“That's what I've been telling her too,” Sam speaks up immediately, but Mercedes is busy hugging Kurt from the side, then letting him go and returning to her food with a pleased smile on her face.

Blaine catches Kurt's gaze and can see the blush high on his cheeks. He knows him well enough by now to know that he's embarrassed. And yet he still said what he said.

“I've been thinking of doing my own _Piano Man_ version,” he changes the topic.

“Oh man, I love that song,” Sam says.

They end up exchanging solo ideas and, gradually, Kurt's blush fades from his face.

It's after their plates are cleared and Blaine has paid with his gift card (there's still something left on it, his dad was feeling _really_ guilty about something, apparently) that he checks his phone for the first time since they sat down. “Oh, crap,” he says, biting his lip at the swear word escaping his mouth.

“What's up?” Sam asks.

He makes a face. “My mom can't pick me up because she got called in to help out with some fundraiser last minute. And she has my car tonight because hers has been making funny noises.”

“Shit,” Sam says. “I walked here from work or I'd drop you off. I was actually hoping you could give me a lift home.”

“Your house is on my way,” Mercedes says to Sam. “I can take you.” She looks at Blaine. “You too.”

“I can drop you off.”

Blaine looks over at Kurt, surprised. “Are you sure? I don't -”

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugs. “No big deal.”

“Awesome,” Mercedes says. “So I'll take Sam and Kurt takes Blaine. All settled.”

Blaine pockets his phone and tries not to act too surprised at this new development.

They walk out together and Kurt stands off to the side a little as Blaine hugs both Sam and Mercedes goodbye. The two wave at Kurt, who really doesn't look like he wants a hug, and continue on to Mercedes' car.

Kurt unlocks his camper and Blaine walks around to the passenger side, climbing in. He's never been in here before. But he thinks it's awesome.

“Something going on between Sam and Mercedes?” Kurt asks as he starts the engine, which whines a little.

“Sam would like that,” Blaine says. “But Mercedes has a boyfriend.” He is a little surprised Kurt doesn't know that about Mercedes.

“Ah,” Kurt says. “Okay.”

Blaine wonders why Kurt cares. Maybe he's interested in Mercedes. But that's not really the vibe Blaine is getting from him.

They don't talk much during the drive to Blaine's house. Just a little, about their night, about the song they're preparing, about the last few glee practices. It's nice and pleasant and almost resembling small talk. And somehow Blaine finds as they pull up to his house that he doesn't want to say goodnight to Kurt just yet.

“Here we are,” Kurt says, stopping at the curb.

Blaine stares out the windshield, gathers his courage, finally asks, “Do you want to come in?”

Kurt looks at him. “Why?”

“Just . . . for a little while. I have cookies!”

“We literally just ate.”

“Cookies don't count as food.”

Kurt laughs at that. Actually laughs. “You're weird, Blaine.”

“Yes. You've already told me that.”

“It's still true.”

“So. Do you wanna come in? It's early for a Friday. My mom isn't home. I'm bored. We can just watch an episode of something. Do you like _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_?”

Kurt simply sits there for a while longer, then finally turns off the engine. “What the hell,” he says. “It's not really like I have anything better to do.”

Blaine leads him into the house before turning on the lights in the foyer and the stairwell. Sometimes when he comes home and there's no one here it just all seems so huge, so strangely cold. “Upstairs?” he asks as they're taking off their shoes side by side.

“Whatever,” Kurt says.

They haven't spent much time together just the two of them since that one afternoon, but Blaine thinks it's all firmly in the past by now. It was just a weird thing that happened and it has given him a lot to think about, a lot of things he still hasn't quite figured out. But it's obviously not something standing between them anymore and he's grateful for that.

Up in his room, Blaine closes the door behind them, turns around to Kurt standing over at his dresser examining the small tangle of bow ties Blaine had left there earlier after choosing one for his outfit that morning.

“You're really into these things, aren't you?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs, walks over to join him. “I like them. I like wearing them.”

“You're weird,” Kurt repeats.

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me,” Blaine points out.

“I really don't know why,” Kurt says, but Blaine hears the laughter in his voice.

He looks up to meet Kurt's eyes in the mirror above his dresser. “Maybe it's because we're friends,” he suggests.

Kurt looks away. “Weren't you saying something about watching TV?”

“Are we?” Blaine asks, keeping his eyes on Kurt's reflection.

“Watching TV?” Kurt snorts. “Not currently, no.”

“Friends,” Blaine clarifies. “Are we friends?”

“Why does it matter?” Kurt turns around, leaning back against the dresser.

“Because it does.”

“I'm here, you're here, we're gonna watch TV. That's it.”

“Yeah, but -”

“I'm not having a 'talk' about our feelings with you, Blaine. If you're gonna be like that, I can leave.”

“Why are you getting angry?” Blaine wants to know. “Is the idea of being my friend really that offensive to you?”

“I didn't say that. I just said -”

“We don't talk about a lot of things, Kurt.” Blaine knows it's a mistake, bringing this up. But, for crying out loud, he's let Kurt pretend it never happened all this time, even though it really did something with him and he could have used someone to talk to. Like the only other person who was there for it, who had it happen to him too.

“Don't,” Kurt says, something dangerous taking over his face.

But Blaine is angry now too. “We never talk about that afternoon, Kurt. I've given you that. I never got mad at you for pretending it was nothing. And now you won't even admit that we're friends?”

“It _was_ nothing,” Kurt says coldly.

“Maybe it wasn't,” Blaine says. “But it still happened.”

“So?”

“You never think about it at all?”

“What is there to think about?”

“Well, we kind of had sex, Kurt.”

“I know. I was there.”

“That's all you have to say?”

“It was just sex, Blaine. Now stop talking about it.”

“Why?”

“We wanted to watch TV. That's the whole reason we're here. What are you trying to accomplish with this?”

Blaine groans loudly. “I'm not trying to accomplish anything. Why are you so insistent on denying it even happened?”

“I'm not. I just don't think we need to talk about it all the time.”

“We're hardly talking about it _all the time_. Seriously?” Blaine takes a step forward, glares at Kurt, fists clenched at his sides. “We had sex and this is the first time either of us has even _mentioned_ it -”

“Shut up,” Kurt almost yells at him, crowding in close as if to grab him or shove him, eyes on fire with anger. “Just _shut up_ -”

Blaine has no idea who kisses who first, but suddenly there they are, furiously making out with each other. Kurt grabs onto Blaine's shirt, turns them, shoves Blaine back against his dresser which bangs loudly against the wall from the impact. Blaine parts his legs almost on autopilot as Kurt pushes in between them.

For a second, he thinks of Mike and Tina in the astronomy classroom, making out passionately. They were laughing and he and Kurt are decidedly not, but he feels a fire in the very pit of his stomach, the same kind of fire he'd sensed between those two all those weeks ago.

All thoughts of Mike and Tina are driven out of his head when Kurt grabs the backs of his thighs to spread his legs further, and thrusts forward.

Blaine groans, tries to rock up against Kurt. He opens his mouth to say something, but his voice seems to be gone. “Not here,” is all he manages to breathe at last when he hears the items on his dresser rattle and fall with the force of Kurt's thrusts.

Kurt curses, yanks him roughly off the dresser and pushes him over to the bed, still kissing him almost hungrily.

This time, they do manage to get their pants off. And Blaine's bow tie, and their sweaters.

He has no idea where his underwear lands when Kurt tosses it across the room, and, again, he ends up on top of Kurt furiously rutting against him with one sock still on and Kurt's briefs tangled around one ankle and neither of them gives a fuck.

He's pretty sure Kurt's nails are leaving scratch marks on his back and he bites Kurt's shoulder a little too hard and he's afraid his headboard will leave indentations in the wall the way it’s banging into it rhythmically.

But then Kurt reaches between them to wrap a hand around both their cocks, and Blaine moans out loud, snapping his hips forward faster before reaching between them to join his hand with Kurt's.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

He comes almost embarrassingly fast, all over Kurt's belly and chest.

For just a second, he slumps forward, needing to catch his breath, but Kurt is still squirming beneath him, making desperate little whining noises, his hand moving over himself in a quick rhythm. Blaine lifts himself up a little, pushes Kurt's hand away to take over. He looks looks down between their bodies, watches his hand on Kurt's dick, roughly jerking him off.

Kurt cries out when he comes, arching up high as his hands are gripping Blaine's arms so hard he's probably leaving bruises.

Blaine collapses over him, panting hard, not even caring about the sticky mess between them.

He can't remember the last time he'd wanted anything this much. The way he'd wanted this. Wanted sex. Wanted Kurt. To touch him and to be touched by him and . . . 

His body is weak and boneless, sated, small, residual shocks of pleasure trembling through him in the most delicious way. He rolls off to the side, not wanting to squash Kurt beneath him. His heart is racing. Which could be due to the sex. But he thinks there's more to it than that. This is clearly not something he can ignore any longer.

He'd been suspecting it since the last time this happened, tried to find another explanation, but . . . can he really still write this off as just a fluke, an experiment?

He's pretty sure he kind of has a thing for Kurt Hummel.

Who was just becoming his friend.

Well. Just perfect.

Kurt sits up beside him, grabs for the box of tissues on Blaine's nightstand and wipes off his chest and belly, dropping the used tissues onto the bed between them.

“Kurt,” Blaine says.

There's no answer. Kurt swings his legs off the mattress, tugs his briefs off his ankle where they're still dangling, pulls them on properly again. He gathers his tissues, throws them at the trash can, a few landing scattered around it.

“What are you doing?” Blaine asks, sitting up on the bed, panicking a little.

Without answering, Kurt finds his sweater, his pants, his socks. He dresses quickly, his back turned to Blaine.

“You're running off again?” Blaine can't keep the fear out of his voice completely.

“No. I'm not running. It's just late,” Kurt says in a clipped voice. “And I don't think I feel like watching TV anymore. We took care of what we came here for, didn't we?”

“We should talk about this.”

“I have to get home.” Kurt turns around to him, still zipping up his pants.

'I have to get home' is better than just a simple 'no,' Blaine supposes. But still not good enough. “Okay, so when? We can't ignore this. You can't just -”

“I have to go.”

All he can do is watch as Kurt leaves the room, and a moment later the front door falls shut downstairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt climbs into the driver's seat, not losing his momentum for a second until he pulls the door shut behind himself, then he leans back against the seat and closes his eyes.

He's still feeling it under his skin, what they just did. They only finished maybe five minutes ago. His body is still buzzing with it.

It's a shitty thing to do, run out on Blaine like that, and he knows it. Feels regret for it even. But something inside feels cut open, and he's full of things he doesn't want to be feeling. Losing control like that makes him vulnerable and he just. Can't cope. It's too much.

He has no explanation for this. Doesn't even know who started it this time around. He remembers himself stepping toward Blaine, and he'd just . . . he'd felt so . . . charged up, just wanting. Wanting something. Wanting Blaine.

He knows he should start the car and get out of here before Blaine, that emotional idiot, can get the idea of running after him, coming out here and trying to talk to him. He'll want to talk. And Kurt doesn't. He doesn't want to talk about this. Talking doesn't change anything. It happened. It's done. What good is talking about it gonna do?

His hands are still weak and he's still too sensitive between his legs, still a little shaky, still a little lightheaded. He wants to lie down and rest, wants to stop feeling this. Wants to stop remembering how fucking _good_ it felt.

The camper starts on the fourth try and he pulls away from the curb, drives, tries not to think.

It's just fifteen minutes to his house and he's not ready yet, can't go home feeling like this. So he takes a detour, pulls into the Lima Bean parking lot, cuts the engine and just sits there.

He's being stupid about this, isn't he? Making such a big deal out of it.

This is not a big deal.

A deep breath, and another. His head clears, his hands slowly stop shaking.

The thing is, it did feel good. It felt really good. And why shouldn't it? It's sex. Sex is _meant_ to feel good. That's the whole point, isn't it? So what does it matter who he's having it with? As long as it feels this good.

It's not a big deal.

It's just sex.

He thinks maybe he just misses having it regularly. It's been months since he and Quinn stopped fucking and he hasn't gone this long without it since he started having it.

What does it matter who it's with? It doesn't _mean_ anything.

Blaine's easy enough to get along with and it seems that he likes sex too, so why can't two bros just help each other out on occasion? It doesn't mean _anything_.

It's seriously cold outside, pretty much winter already. He's starting to shiver in his old, crappy camper. A hot shower before bed would be good right now. For more than one reason. As good as it had felt, he doesn't particularly want to go to bed with residue of his and Blaine's come still all over his skin.

He sits in the parking lot for a minute or two longer, than starts his car again and continues on his way home.

**

Sam has decided that he and Blaine and Tina need to have a movie Sunday. It used to be a thing for them, before Blaine and Tina sort of stopped spending a lot of time together due to the . . . well, the breaking up and Tina spending pretty much all of her free time with Mike. But Blaine's been looking forward to this. He's still seeing Tina during lunch and glee club and when they all go for coffee sometimes and a few times when Sam simply invites them both over to his house. But they have tried to keep out of each other's way and it makes him sad. He misses his friend. He doesn't want to lose her friendship.

Tina has offered her house for their 'friend date' as Sam is calling it, so Blaine drives over there early on Sunday afternoon. To be honest, he really needs this kind of distraction. All Saturday he'd tried to talk to Kurt, texting him after he hadn't picked up any of his calls.

And Kurt had adamantly avoided reacting to any of Blaine's attempts to talk about Friday night, even though he had answered all of his texts in a perfectly cordial manner. As if nothing at all was wrong between them.

It's infuriating. It's also a bit upsetting. Maybe more than a bit.

Blaine can feel Friday night like an itch under his skin, he can't forget it, he can't even stop thinking about it. What's even worse, as much as he understands that they're not handling this well and that he and Kurt are clearly not on the same page here and that they absolutely have to figure out what this means, he can't stop wanting to do it again.

When he made himself have sex with Tina because she'd wanted to and he'd wanted to make her happy, he'd felt like such a freak at first, like such a failure. Because he'd just never really had the urge with her, even though she was beautiful and he loved her so much. And while . . . well . . . _finishing_ certainly felt kind of good every time, it had never felt quite as good as when he'd done it by himself. And he'd never had any problem getting hard by himself. But with her . . . He'd always thought it might be stage fright. Nerves.

And then he'd started his research, and he'd just sort of figured he was asexual. Well, he'd thought a lot of different things and it's not like he'd been sure about any of it. There's so much information out there, so much to choose from. Ace, gray ace, demisexual, the difference between romantic and sexual attraction; maybe heteroromatic asexual? It's just so much.

He'd read a lot about it. So, at first it had all been a little confusing, because he really enjoys masturbating and he definitely gets aroused by sex scenes in books and movies and fanfiction. But apparently asexuals can do and feel all of that and still not want to have sex with an actual person. It had just all made sense. It had seemed to fit him so well.

He hadn't told Tina about any of that, though. He'd wanted her to think he was enjoying it, being with her. But the longer he'd tried learning to like it, the more he'd been convinced that he was ace. That it just wasn't for him, having sex with someone.

But now there's Kurt. And Blaine really, really, _really_ wants to have sex with Kurt. He'd been absolutely out of his mind with want on Friday night. Just like the first time they'd done it. And even though he'd tried not to, he'd jerked off to the memory of Kurt naked under him just this morning, after lying in bed for long minutes with an almost painful erection that just wouldn't go away and the image of Kurt's body and the expression on his face as a came just not leaving his mind.

So, maybe not asexual, then.

But in that case . . . what? Demi? And does this mean he's . . . bi? Gay even? Wouldn't that explain what he's feeling? Does it really _matter_? As long as it feels right? He just kind of wants a name for it so he can understand himself. He doesn't know if that makes sense.

He parks in front of Tina's house and gets out of the car. Sam is already there and they all hug, and Blaine listens to their chatter as they pick a movie. He joins in with his own opinions, laughs and talks with them. It almost feels like everything is normal.

Pretty soon he's feeling better, his mind occupied with other things.

This is exactly what friends are for, isn't it? He's so, so glad for them.

Sam leaves first just after they've finished their pizza that evening, having to babysit his siblings while his parents are out. Blaine lingers for a moment.

“Hey,” Tina says, putting a hand on his arm where they're sitting next to each other on the couch. “Is everything okay?”

He opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again. She's not the right person to talk to about this. You don't talk about these things with your ex-girlfriend. He should talk to Sam. Or to his mom even. Or, ideally, to Kurt, but that option seems to be out.

But Tina's been his best friend since freshman year. If anyone really knows him . . . if there's anyone he really trusts . . .

“I'm not sure,” he says.

Tina watches him for a little while, then nods her head resolutely. “Let's go upstairs,” she says.

Blaine follows her without a word. Her parents are sitting in the kitchen having their own dinner, and he doesn't need them to overhear any of this. He's not even really sure he should be talking about it. It's not just his secret to reveal, after all.

Tina leads him into her room, and he thinks about the last time he was in here. The time that led to Tina dumping him just a few days later. He can't believe he hasn't been in here since that afternoon so many months ago.

“Sit,” Tina says, pushing him toward her desk chair before sitting cross-legged on her bed. “Talk.”

Blaine sits down, folds his hands in his lap, stares down at them. “I -” he starts, breaks off, clears his throat. “Tina, I – I -”

“What's wrong, Blaine?”

“Nothing, actually.” He sighs, lifts a hand to rub his eye. “It's nothing bad, not really. It's . . . it's probably kind of good, actually. I mean, good that I know, because – um.”

“Know what?”

“I think -” He steels himself, tells himself: just get it over with. “Um, I mean, I think I'm kind of gay?”

For a minute, she just stares at him, mouth open. Then she lets out a breathy little laugh, shaking her head. “Oh my god. Oh my god. That explains _so much_.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“I – yeah. Pretty sure.”

“Okay.” She shifts forward a little. “Okay. This is good, right? You figuring this out?”

He nods. “You're okay with it?”

She laughs again. “Of course I'm okay with it! And, truth be told, I'm also kind of relieved? A little? You know, knowing that it wasn't . . . me. When we were together.”

“No!” Blaine says vehemently. “No, of course it wasn't you, it was just . . . us, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. Oh my god. That makes so much sense.”

“You think so?”

“Is there a guy?” she asks, almost sounding eager.

Blaine thinks about how to put this into words in the best way possible. “I'm not sure,” he settles on. “I mean, there's someone for me, yeah. But we're not . . . together. I don't even know if he's, I don't know, bi or gay or anything. I just -”

“You like him.”

“Yes,” Blaine says, without needing to think about it. “I do. I really like him.”

“Who is it? Do I know him?”

“I can't tell you that,” he says. “You know, in case he really is into guys and not ready to come out. I couldn't do that to him.”

“Yeah, no, that makes sense.” She puts a hand over her heart. “Aww. My little Blaineybear is in loooove.”

“Shut up, Tina,” he says. But he hugs her for a long time before he leaves, and she hugs him back and tells him she loves him, and he's just missed her so much. He's so happy to have her back he could cry. Instead, he squeezes her tighter and agrees to go have coffee with her after glee club on Monday.

It just feels good, to have told someone. It feels even better to have told her.

**

Kurt can't deny that he's dreading meeting Blaine in school on Monday just a bit. He really just wants to move on, but Blaine is all about feelings and being in touch with your feelings and analyzing what things mean. Kurt has pretty firmly decided that if they can keep up what they've been doing, they could have a pretty good thing going, and he's just afraid that Blaine's gonna ruin it with all of his emotions.

To his relief, he doesn't run into Blaine all day, glee club is a mess as always, and right afterwards Tina drags Blaine off saying something about coffee.

“We're gonna go look at sheet music at Between the Sheets,” Mercedes tells Kurt, Sam standing next to her smiling. “You wanna come with us?”

Kurt almost catches himself saying yes, because he honestly likes Mercedes' company. But that's a friend thing to do and they're not friends, and, besides, he kind of has a plan to try and find Quinn this afternoon. They haven't talked for way too long, not since she told him about her boyfriend, and he thinks it's time to end the silence between them.

“No, thanks,” he says. “But you guys have fun!”

He leaves by himself and drives his camper out to their old secret spot first. She isn't there. He tries to call her once, but she doesn't pick up. He texts her. _Hey, how are you doing_? It's kind of lame, but they have to start somewhere.

There's no response, so he drives home to wait there. He could drive by her aunt's house, but that seems intrusive. He can keep that as a last resort if she never gets back to him at all. Maybe he'll try and find her at school tomorrow. He curses the fact that they have no classes together this year at all. But it can't be helped.

“You look worried,” his dad says when Kurt gets home. He's on the couch as usual, Carole in the armchair with a cup of tea and a crossword puzzle.

Kurt hugs his dad quickly, forces out a laugh. “Nah, just tired. Long glee club practice.”

“How's your group number thing coming along?” Carole asks, looking up at him with a warm smile.

“Fine,” Kurt says, taking a seat on the couch, doing his best to smile back at her. “We're making good progress. In fact, we're meeting up again tomorrow afternoon, so I'll be home a little later than usual.”

Burt nods. “You know you can invite your friends over here, right? You can practice right here if you want. I'd like to meet them all.”

Kurt waves a hand. “No, that's all right. Blaine has a crazy huge living room and a piano.”

“We have a piano too,” Carole points out. “And you're pretty much the only one who can actually play it.” She grins.

“We make a lot of noise,” Kurt replies. “And Blaine's house is pretty much always empty.”

“You can make noise here sometimes,” his dad says. “This is your house too.”

“I know, dad.” Kurt gives him a crooked smile. “But it's okay. Really.”

His dad and Carole don't look convinced but they let it go for now.

**

Kurt means to leave right away after their group number practice on Tuesday, but Sam and Mercedes once again manage to run out before him as if they know Blaine wants to talk to him. Just perfect.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, as Kurt is about to put on his shoes. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Just a minute?” Kurt grins up at him from his seat on the stairs, his left shoe in his hands. It's a silly attempt to lighten the mood. “That would be a first for you. What important thing do you have to discuss that will only take a minute?”

Blaine isn't smiling. “I think you know.”

Kurt groans. “Blaine, no. We don't have to talk about it.”

“I think we do.”

“Well, I think we don't. What's the big deal?”

“Don't you want to talk about what this means? For us?”

“Look.” Kurt sighs. “You want to make a big thing out of it, I get that. But aren't you totally blowing it out of proportion? All we did was have sex.”

“Twice.”

“So?”

“So . . . that just happened? Just like that?”

“I mean, yeah.” Kurt shrugs. “I have needs, you have needs. We took care of them. Don't make it into more than it was.”

Blaine has an almost desperate look on his face. “I – just. Taking care of . . . a need? That's what you think it was?”

“What else is there?” Kurt asks. “We're both not dating anyone and it's kind of difficult to go out and find someone else what with all those extra practices. So, I don't know. It's just bros helping bros, you know?”

“Have you slept with guys before?” Blaine asks.

“I . . . no. But what's the difference? It's sex. No big deal. And we're obviously compatible enough, wouldn't you agree? You did seem to be enjoying yourself. We can be of use to each other. I don't see why we can't just take it for what it is.”

“Wait.” Blaine frowns. “Are you – are you saying . . . you want it to happen again?”

“I'm not saying I want anything,” Kurt clarifies, getting a little impatient. “But – wait, are you saying you want it to happen again?”

Blaine holds up his hands, drops them again, shoulders slumping. “I'm not gonna lie. I have thought about it. Kind of a lot.”

“Fine,” Kurt says. “Right now?”

“What? No!” Blaine stares at him, eyes wide.

“Okay, wow, chill out.” Kurt finishes putting on his shoes, not looking up at Blaine. “Just let me know when.”

“Let me get this straight,” Blaine says, and Kurt barely bites back an exasperated sigh. “You're saying we'll just be friends and have sex whenever we feel like it?”

“I guess.” Kurt gets up off the stairs, grabs his bag. Blaine's looking a little stunned and Kurt really just . . . doesn't understand what the issue is here? It sounds like a pretty fair offer to him. “You okay with that?”

“I don't know,” Blaine says.

“Let me know when you do,” Kurt tells him, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He's thought this through and it makes perfect sense to him, but maybe Blaine will need a few days to come to that same conclusion. He'll give him the space to do just that. “I'll see you.”

He leaves a confused-looking Blaine standing in the foyer and gets in his camper to drive himself home.

**

Blaine has a sleepless night.

He doesn't really know what to make of Kurt's offer.

Is he right? Can they just – can they just do this and not have it mean anything?

He's always believed that sex meant something. That is was a way to connect to a person. A person you love and want to be closer to.

Now, he's not so sure. Or rather, he's not sure that it can't be both: a way to connect as well as a way to get a few good orgasms, the way Kurt sees it. They can have some fun, take care of their needs. Needs that he's never felt in this way before but that he has trouble ignoring all of a sudden.

The truth is, he wants to keep doing this with Kurt, and the more he considers it, the more sense it makes to him. Maybe it would be smart to keep going. Not just because of what Kurt said. Bros helping bros. But because . . .

Well, because for one, it _would_ feel great; it did the last two times. In general, he does want to have sex, now that he knows he likes it. But specifically, he wants to have sex with Kurt – and he can. If he wants to. All he has to do is ask Kurt for it, and it won't be a big deal at all. And also, with all those feelings and realizations about himself and all those questions he has about his own sexuality, wouldn't it be a good thing to keep exploring and experimenting until he's absolutely sure that this is what he wants? That he wants to sleep with guys and not girls? That he's really gay?

Maybe, he thinks, he's just trying to justify it all to himself because if he says no, Kurt will find someone else and that thought makes something unpleasant rise up in his chest.

But maybe he has really already made up his mind, no matter what his reasons are.

Maybe he's known his answer all along.

**

The week goes by and Kurt goes about his days as usual. Blaine seems to be keeping his distance for now, but that's okay. He'd expected that. Blaine tells him he has to be home a lot because his dad is home from California for a few days, but Kurt knows there's more to it. They see each other in glee club and sometimes in the hallways, and Blaine smiles at him like he always does, but his smiles looks just a bit tentative now. But it's not like they could have had group number rehearsals anyway – Sam's working a lot this week, and Mercedes has church choir practice the one afternoon Sam is free.

The year is coming to an end, it's freezing outside, and they've started working on competition numbers in glee club. A little half-heartedly, but Mercedes assures him that's perfectly normal.

Kurt isn't sure what Blaine is going to say to his proposal once he's had time to think about it, and he's not even sure it was a smart thing to propose in the first place. But he believes in what he said. That it's not a big deal. And that they are compatible. He's totally down with the idea of keeping this up, using each other that way to feel good.

They finally meet up again on Saturday, when Blaine's house is conveniently empty once again, and work on their song. Kurt feels more confident with his singing now, he finds. He still feels uncomfortable. But he only has a few lines in this one. And even if it annoys him a little, he is sort of remembering why he used to like it so much. The singing.

“You sound really good,” Mercedes tells him as they're taking a break. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Not as good as yours,” he says.

She laughs. “It's not a competition between us. I like your voice and I think you're talented. It's a compliment, Kurt. Just say thanks.”

“Right,” he says, and his face feels a little hot. “Uh. Thanks, I guess.”

“You're welcome,” she says and bumps their shoulders together.

He's glad when they resume their practice.

They're done for the day and he's ready to leave when Blaine puts a hand on his arm. “Uh, Kurt?”

“What?”

Blaine looks nervous. “Could you – um. I have that book upstairs. That you wanted to borrow. Uh. Do you want to – if you want to come upstairs real quick I can give it to you?”

“What b-” He cuts himself off as he understands, feels his eyes widen a little. “Oh. Oh! Yes, yes, of course. Let's get that book!”

“Hey, we're gonna head out, okay?” Sam says, one hand already on the doorknob. “See you guys Monday?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, and his grin looks totally over the top exuberant with how fake it is. “See you Monday.”

They wait until the door has closed behind Sam and Mercedes, then Kurt looks him up and down, smirks.

“So. You've made up your mind?”

“Yeah, I mean -” Blaine looks embarrassed, but he's powering through. Kurt is impressed. “What you said about bros helping bros. I just. I mean, we don't have to, today, if you don't want to, I only -”

“Blaine.” Kurt feels his heart beating fast in his chest, but that's normal if you're excited at the prospect of getting regular sex again, right? “I want to. It's fine. Let's do this.”

Blaine nods a little jerkily, then turns around and leads the way up the stairs.

They get really properly naked this time and Kurt lets Blaine jerk him off, then returns the favor. 

Blaine's grip on him is tight and perfect, and just the right side of rough. It feels so good and it's just what he wanted, and when he comes, it's even better than it had been the last time.

Blaine doesn't need long once Kurt starts touching him, and his hips keep bucking up into the circle of Kurt's fist as he lets out breathy moans. Kurt has never paid much attention to other guys' dicks before, but now that he's actually looking he finds he almost can't stop. He doesn't know why it's so fascinating to him, the way the shape is just a little different, the way Blaine is just a little shorter but definitely thicker than him. Blaine groans loudly and arches up off the bed and Kurt keeps stroking him until he's done coming.

It's good. It's easy. It's fun.

He doesn't run out this time, allows his body to calm once they're done, lying spread out lazily on top of the rumpled sheets on Blaine's formerly well-made bed.

“That was good,” Blaine says. “Wasn't it?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “It was great.”


	9. Chapter 9

As much as Blaine hadn't been quite sure about this arrangement when he'd initially agreed to it, his doubts subside more and more with every time they do it.

It's not after every group practice, but the times Kurt does stay behind and they retreat up to Blaine's room are more numerous than the times he leaves. And Kurt no longer sprints from the room as soon as they're both done. He stays around for a bit, listens to Blaine's idle chatter – Blaine discovers that he's actually kind of talkative after sex, now that he's actually into it.

There's never any significant foreplay and they don't really talk during. They still go pretty much straight to the act and just see it through. But it's kind of fun anyway. And it feels even better now that they've put a name to what it is they're doing. There are no false expectations threatening to get in the way and Blaine really thinks talking has helped them.

Kurt is straightforward and efficient about sex, knows what he wants and is not afraid to tell Blaine exactly where he wants his hands and other parts of his anatomy. But after a few times of hooking up, when Blaine finally gathers his courage to make suggestions, Kurt lets him do pretty much all of it.

Blaine learns to suck him off. They need a few tries, but once he gets the hang of it he finds he really likes doing it, kind of a lot, and Kurt certainly seems to enjoy letting him do it. The afternoon Kurt asks, quite casually once his breathing has evened out after his orgasm, “Want me to return the favor?” is one of Blaine's favorite afternoons ever. Kurt is a quick learner and approaches the task with focus and determination. It feels _amazing_.

One thing Blaine discovers that really drives him crazy is that Kurt kind of likes having things done to him, in bed. It doesn't happen every time. Kurt is always so controlled and keeps his walls up so firmly. But more and more often when Blaine touches him, he just kind of . . . gives himself over to it. Just lets Blaine do things to him like he's getting off on . . . being taken care of? Is that what Kurt wants?

Whatever it is, Blaine loves it. Just spreading Kurt out and working him over with his hands and his mouth until he comes – nothing gets him off harder than knowing Kurt is getting off on him.

The one thing Kurt won't approach is penetration. He's fingered Blaine a few times, and Blaine likes it, but what he's really curious about, what he jerks off to when Kurt isn't here, is doing it to Kurt in return, maybe even fucking him. He just . . . he thinks he might really like that. The thought is . . . _god_ , so hot. But Kurt doesn't want to and so Blaine doesn't push him. What they're doing is more than fine.

And it absolutely seems like Kurt was right. They can have this and they don't have to make it a thing. It's uncomplicated and easy and no one knows, so they can meet up whenever they want, no open door policy when they're alone together, no special curfews or anything. Because they're just . . . bros.

Sometimes he thinks Tina suspects something. She gives them funny looks sometimes, and once when they're out Christmas shopping together she asks him “So, how's Kurt?” All casually, like she means nothing by it.

“He's good,” Blaine says, and changes the topic to getting Sam a new guitar strap for Christmas. No one can know. He doesn't really like keeping things from his friends, but in this case, he thinks, the payoff is more than worth it.

**

It's the week before the Christmas holidays and Kurt's honestly looking forward to no school for a few days. While that's usually the case, he feels it especially hard, this week.

He's gotten use to glee club and he doesn't really mind the group project meetings anymore, not just because they end in sex these days more often than not. It's . . . maybe not fun, exactly, but a lot more bearable than he'd feared. Sam is an okay guy and Mercedes is pretty awesome. He completely gets why Sam is in love with her. If he'd be capable of such feelings, he's sure he'd be in love with her too.

It's just that he's feeling exhausted, spread too thin between all the things he has to juggle these days. 

There's keeping his grades up enough so his dad doesn't worry and so that he can actually get into college because that's another thing he has to worry about, because it might mean having to move away and that's just not an option with the way things are going. 

Because there's also his dad's health. He'd almost allowed himself to get his hopes up after they'd got him back from the hospital at the end of summer, but his dad's doctor has told them what the score is and basically it's not good. 

Then there's glee club competition season coming up and while he's not super invested in that, he still has to participate because principal Sue says so. And they have their group project which takes up so much time, Quinn is still not speaking to him or responding to his texts, and to top things off his camper's been making trouble and he's had to take it into the garage twice over the last two weeks.

The only times he's really able to forget about it all are when he's sleeping with Blaine, and he's kind of incredibly glad they've reached this agreement. It takes his mind off things. Makes him feel good, even just for a little while.

He's walking down the deserted school hallway after glee club to retrieve his chem book from his locker – he still has homework to do tonight. He's rounding the corner when he sees them, three of them, big, broad-shouldered guys in Letterman jackets and with evilly amused grins on their faces as they spot him.

“Hummel,” one of them says.

Kurt feels his heart racing, hates the way his hands go clammy. “Get out of my way,” he tells them coldly, schooling his face into a bored expression. He's managed to mostly keep them off his back with a few strategically spread rumors about himself, but he remembers freshman year and the first half of sophomore year so very clearly. It's not a fond memory. They haven't had many run-ins since then, except for the time he shoved them first to make them leave some poor freshman alone. And the time he'd pulled them off Blaine. He doesn't know what this means.

“You're in glee club now?” Another one of them says, and they move as one to block his passage.

The third one laughs, cracks his knuckles. “You even got Fabray to dump you, didn't you? How do you get even the school slut to stop sleeping with you? You gay now, asshole?”

“Wow,” Kurt says, proud that his voice comes out steady. “I'm not with Quinn anymore so clearly I must be gay. Of course. That's some impressive, if completely off the mark deducting you did there.”

“You've gone soft, Hummel,” the first gorilla addresses him again, and Kurt recognizes him as the one whose finger he broke a few months ago. “And I've got something to repay you for. Now's as good a time as any, don't you think?”

“Yeah, you broke his finger,” gorilla number two says. “How about we break your legs in return?”

There's no one around to help him and Kurt has learned over the years that no one will show up. No one ever has in the past. He's learned to fight out of necessity but it's three against one and the middle one especially looks just . . . his neck alone is as thick as Kurt's thigh. This is gonna hurt and he knows it. At least it will probably be over quick.

“Or maybe we'll just break your pretty little face,” the one on the left says. “Fabray won't take you back then.”

“Or maybe,” a cold voice sounds from behind Kurt's back, “You'll back off and walk away before something bad happens to you.”

Kurt can feel his heart in his throat, but not with fear this time. He doesn't know what it is he feels. “Blaine what are you doing h-” He looks over his shoulder, and freezes.

It's not just Blaine. 

Blaine is at the front, hands raised in a pretty professional looking boxing stance, and he looks a little ridiculous with his bow tie and his gel helmet and his sweater vest, having his fists raised like that. But the look on his face is scary. And behind him are Sam, Tina and Mercedes, Sam somehow looking taller with anger, Tina with a glare on her face that could set stone on fire, and Mercedes with her arms crossed and her mouth set in a grim line.

“I think you're outnumbered,” Tina says.

“You might wanna walk away now,” Mercedes adds.

The middle one scoffs, but he looks unsure. “What, we're supposed to be scared of three fags and two girls?”

Mercedes takes a step forward and her face hardens. “Yes,” she says firmly in a voice so cold even Kurt feels a shiver run down his back.

“Whatever,” one of them says, shrugging his shoulders. “Come on,” he addresses his friends. “Not worth the trouble. This time,” he adds with a glare at Kurt.

Kurt doesn't quite trust his eyes as they turn and just . . . walk away.

He spins around to where Blaine, Sam, Tina and Mercedes are still standing right there, Blaine lowering his hands now, Tina's face softening. Mercedes uncrosses her arms. Sam reaches out, claps a hand to Kurt's shoulder. “You all right, dude?”

Kurt can't speak for a moment. He's embarrassed, but also . . . It's not a feeling he knows. This has never happened to him before. Not ever. Not once, not a single time since they started shoving him around. “Yeah,” he manages finally. “Um. How did you – Are you actually insane?”

“We got your back, okay?” Mercedes says.

He's getting angry now. “They could have beaten us all up. They're _stupid_. What the fuck did you even _think_ you were doing?”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, giving him a stern look. “We were just trying to help.”

“We _did_ help,” Tina points out. “You might wanna say thanks now.”

Kurt deflates, still outnumbered. There's nothing he can do. “Whatever. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Tina says, her grin somewhere between soft and haughty.

Kurt shrugs. “Don't blame me if they kill all of us next time.”

Mercedes touches his arm, squeezes it a little, and smiles. “Don't worry. We won't.”

Blaine's eyes on him are unreadable, a kind of intensity in them Kurt has never seen before. It makes him feel hot all over.

He doesn't get his chem book after all. The homework isn't due for another two days. Instead, he walks out with them, still lost for words, but he accepts their pats on the shoulder and Mercedes' hug before they all walk off to their cars. Apparently there is no way of stopping them from aggressively pushing their fucking idea of friendship on him either way. 

Blaine lingers by the side of Kurt's camper.

“Can we go somewhere?”

Kurt looks at him. “Where?”

Blaine lifts his shoulders. “Anywhere.”

They get in the camper and Kurt drives them out to his secret spot by the old abandoned pool where he's never gone with anyone but Quinn.

Kurt climbs through into the back first and Blaine follows, pushes him down onto the old fold-out bed and undresses him, then takes his own clothes off. Kurt lies back and lets Blaine work him over, lets Blaine hold him down and bite his skin and touch him everywhere with rough hands, bringing him to the edge again and again and again until there's no other thought in his head but want and need and that ache so hot so hot everywhere in his bones and finally he feels it all explode deep inside, his muscles seizing, toes curling, fingers digging into skin, and he thinks he even screams.

When he comes back to himself Blaine is at his side, breathing heavily. He must have come too somewhere in there, because he's soft and his face has that glow it gets afterwards, cheeks red and eyes blinking slowly. Kurt's a little sorry he missed it, but his body is feeling so pleasantly exhausted there isn't much room for regret.

No one's ever done anything like this for him before. But he thinks he liked it.

“Thanks,” he says, voice a little hoarse. This time, he means it.

“My pleasure,” Blaine answers, and from the tone of his voice Kurt believes he means it too.

**

“So,” Sam says.

“So?” Blaine asks, looking up from his lunch tray. They're having something brownish today that tastes a bit like chicken. He doesn't question it. He's sure there are some nutrients in there somewhere.

“So, what's going on between you and Kurt?”

Tina looks up at that too, a curious look on her face. She hasn't bugged Blaine once about revealing who he has a crush on since he told her he was gay, and he's grateful, but he also recognizes that look on her face.

“Nothing,” he says. “We're friends.”

“You're spending an awful lot of time together,” Sam points out. “Like, he's always staying behind after every _Don't Stop_ rehearsal.”

“We're friends,” Blaine repeats.

“I mean, if I'm way off here and you're not even into dudes – like, bi or whatever – my mistake,” Sam says. “But you sort of look at him sometimes the way I look at Mercedes.”

“I -” Blaine swallows. “I don't -”

“And he kind of looks back at you the same way,” Sam finishes.

Blaine feels his stomach giving a jolt, his heart skipping a beat. “He – does? I mean. He doesn't. And neither do I. I don't know what you've been seeing.” He laughs, hopes it doesn't sound too hysterical. “You're so gone over Mercedes you think everyone's in love now.”

Sam sighs. “Yeah, maybe. I don't know, man. I just thought . . . You're not mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not,” Blaine says, smiles until Sam returns to his food. He catches Tina's gaze and quickly looks away. He knows she knows now. There's nothing he can do about that.

And, truth be told, he's not quite sure how long he can keep feeling this without having to say something. To whoever will listen. Because what they did the day before in the back of Kurt's camper? He's not sure he can write that off as just something between bros anymore.

At least not from his side. And he hopes to everything he's not even sure he believes in that Kurt won't end what they have if he ever finds out what Blaine is feeling for him.

**

It's the last day of school before Christmas break and Kurt walks out of the building with Sam and Blaine walking next to him, talking about their superhero club meeting the other day. They walk with him most days after glee club. He doesn't really get it, but somehow they're walking as a group quite a lot since they all started working on their assignment together. It's a little weird. But he's not strong enough to put a stop to it.

The people he used to hang out with last year were all mostly Quinn's friends. He hasn't really talked to any of them since he and Quinn – well.

As if the universe heard his thoughts, he sees a pink head of hair disappearing down the path toward the bus stop. Quinn.

“Hey, I'll see you guys later,” he tells Sam and Blaine absentmindedly and breaks into a run.

She's been ignoring him for too long. They're supposed to be friends, dammit. Talking in a crowded school hallway has never been an option, but he's not gonna let her get away from him this time.

“Quinn!” he calls after her.

She slows, stops, turns around to stare at him with an annoyed look on her face. “Kurt.”

He skids to a halt on the icy ground right in front of her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She sighs. “What's up?”

“Where the fuck have you been?” It's not how he meant to open the conversation, but it's what comes out anyway.

“None of your business.”

“I haven't seen you around school much. Are you okay?”

Her smile is so fake. “Yeah! Just peachy! I'm just going to fly back to my castle to feed my pet unicorn and then I'm gonna try out for head cheerleader!”

“Don't do this, Quinn.”

“Don't do what? Look, I have to go.”

“Are you still upset about that text?”

“When you said my boyfriend didn't really like me and that you know my life better than I do? No, why would I ever be upset about that?”

“That's not what I said. I just -”

“Go hang out with your new friends, Kurt. You don't need me. And I don't particularly want you around either.”

“Quinn -”

“I mean.” Her grin has something cruel about it. “You were only ever good for one thing anyway. And I have someone else for that now. Someone who actually knows what he's doing.”

He doesn't want it to, but it hurts. He takes a step back, nods. “Okay. Fine.”

“Good. You can run off now to your merry little band of singing weirdos. Maybe Rachel will want to fuck you if make your personality just a little more bland than it already is.”

“Screw you, Quinn,” he says and turns around to walk away.

His pulse is going too fast and he feels something burning in his chest. But really, he should have seen this coming. This is exactly what happens when you let people get close.

You lose them eventually.

**

Blaine doesn't hear from Kurt at all over Christmas, but he figures he's probably just busy with his family – Blaine knows family is important to Kurt. Not that he's ever said so, not that Kurt has ever said a lot at all about his personal life. But Blaine has picked up on a few things over the past few months.

And he's busy himself over Christmas – his dad is home for the holidays, which puts his mom in a bit of a foul mood, and he feels sorry for her. He doesn't really understand his parents' relationship or why they're even still married. He's felt it a few times, but this holiday especially he finds himself wishing they could just separate. Get a divorce. It would be better for everyone.

His dad sits in the living room and either types away on a laptop, reads a newspaper, or randomly calls Blaine to him so he can ask him questions about his life that Blaine doesn't think he really wants to hear the answers to, since he usually checks out about halfway through the conversation and stares at his phone instead.

His mom and dad fight a lot. He sits up in his room while they're at it, pretending not to hear as they scream at each other. It usually ends with his dad walking out of the house and slamming the door so hard even Blaine's window upstairs rattles in its frame. That's when he goes downstairs to find his mom sitting on the couch determinedly staring down at a magazine she's not reading, or leaning against the kitchen island with a fresh bottle of wine open, sipping slowly from one of those huge wine glasses she likes. He hugs her and they don't talk.

Sometimes he takes long walks with her just so they can both get out of the house where his father's presence makes them all walk on eggshells, everyone tense and expecting things to blow up at any given moment.

His brother Cooper is home for the holidays too, but he spends a lot of time out of the house 'meeting up with old friends.' Blaine knows he doesn't really care about his old school friends. He's not even sure they really exist. Cooper's probably sitting in the Lima Bean drinking coffee by himself. 

Cooper and his dad just don't get along. They basically live in the same state and never even see each other. His dad does not approve of Cooper's career choice as an actor and usually pretends he only has one son. Which doesn't really make Blaine feel better about himself – it's a lot of pressure to be under, to keep up this pretense of being a good son so he doesn't get the cold, silent treatment more than he does already. He's only waiting for the day his dad will deny his existence too when Blaine tells him what he's planning to study in college and that he's in fact, made up his mind about that a long time ago. He also wonders how his dad will react when or if he finds out about Blaine's sexuality – Blaine wouldn't put it past his father to actually disown him.

Whenever Cooper is in the house, he and Blaine spend a lot of time in the basement where they still have their mom's awesome karaoke machine. He never remembers how much he misses his brother when they don't see each other for a while.

One day when their father is in an especially bad mood, just sitting downstairs and snapping at everyone and making the whole house feel cold, Cooper comes into Blaine's room, closes the door behind himself, and sits down on Blaine's desk chair.

Blaine looks up from the book he's not reading.

“If you ever need to get out of here,” Cooper says, and he looks more serious than Blaine has ever seen him. “There's a couch at my place in L.A. And it's always there for you if you need it. You don't even have to call. Okay?”

Blaine smiles, even though he doesn't really feel like smiling. “Okay. Thanks, Cooper.”

Cooper smiles back and doesn't leave. Once they hear the front door slamming downstairs they go down together and make their mom join them in the basement for some family duets. Singing helps. Sometimes.

**

Kurt remembers when Christmas used to be special and magical and wonderful. This year, it's just kind of subdued and quiet.

He and his dad had worked hard to reclaim the joy of the holidays after they'd lost his mom when he was a little boy. They'd made new traditions because the old ones were too painful, and Kurt has always appreciated the things his dad has done for him. 

But this year . . .

His dad is feeling worse again. It's not a surprise that it happened, but they'd all been hoping he'd be able to hold on a little longer than this.

Kurt knows their time is running out and he doesn't want to think about what that means, can't think about what that means.

Christmas is – well, it's just weird. His dad is so tired all of the time now and apologizes over and over for not being able to participate in the celebrations more than he's doing, and Kurt doesn't know what to tell him because no one's actually celebrating anything anyway.

He's scared. He's so fucking scared and he doesn't know what to do and he has no one he could talk to about this.

It's two days after Christmas and his dad is taking a nap upstairs at ten in the morning and Carole is out at work. Kurt's sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, just trying to breathe, when Finn walks into the room.

“Hey,” he says.

Kurt looks up at him. “I thought you were out meeting with your gorilla friends to drink the blood of the innocent or something.”

Finn looks a little confused, then walks over and sits down on the coffee table which groans a little under his weight. “You're not doing so good, are you?”

Kurt laughs. “Astute observation. Impressive.”

“Do you want to . . . you know. Talk about it?” Finn looks a little uncomfortable at his own offer, but keeps looking straight at Kurt.

“With you?” Kurt asks incredulously.

“Okay,” Finn says. “I know we haven't exactly – I know we don't really have the best history between us.”

“You think?”

“But I just want you to know that I really am sorry about . . . all that stuff.”

“ _Stuff_? You mean tossing me into dumpsters and almost putting me in the hospital various times during my entire freshman and sophomore years?”

“That was never actually me, though,” Finn points out. “I didn't -”

“You were there, though,” Kurt reminds him. “You had no problem standing by and watching it happen. You have no problem standing by and watching your friends still doing it to other people now.”

“I've had a talk with Karofsky and Azimio,” Finn says. “I know what they did the other week.”

“You – had a _talk_ with them?”

Finn nods. “I told them to leave you alone or I'd go to Coach Beiste and principal Sue and tell them what they were up to. The coach and Sue like me. They'll believe me.”

Kurt is a little lost for words. “How did they react to that?”

Finn shrugs. “They were pissed. But I think they took me seriously.”

“Why did you do that?” Kurt asks. “I mean, why now? I don't – I don't get it. I don't get you.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Finn says. “I should have done it a long time ago. I know that, I know it's probably too little too late, and I'm sorry. I know you probably don't believe me, and that's okay. But we're brothers, right? Gotta have each other's backs. I'm really sorry about being kind of a dick to you. But I really wanna make this right.”

“You're just saying that because things are rough right now,” Kurt says. “I don't need your pity.”

“It's not just that,” Finn says. “I promise.”

“I find that a little hard to believe, after everything,” Kurt admits.

“Yeah, I get that.” Finn looks a little sad. “I deserve that. But I just . . . we're brothers. I think it's time we started acting like it. Is that okay?”

Kurt looks down at his knees, doesn't know what he feels. Another thing he doesn't get to choose. What is he supposed to say? “Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”


	10. Chapter 10

It's four days after Christmas when he gets a text from Blaine that's different than the others. Usually what Blaine texts is just the usual crap like _Hey how are you??_ Or _I hope you have a nice day!_ Or _Wow, it's cold outside today, isn't it?_

This text is different. It just says: _can we go somewere_

Kurt stares at it. A typo and no question mark. Not very Blaine-ish at all. Kurt thinks he knows what Blaine means by 'going somewhere' and it's not that he doesn't want to. It just seems . . . it's just weird. The message is weird.

And he's surprised to realize that he's worried.

“Carole?” he says, walking into the kitchen where she's having a cup of coffee and typing something on the laptop she shares with his dad.

“Hmm?”

“I'm going out for an hour or two, okay? Meeting a friend.”

She looks up at him. “Are you gonna be back for dinner?”

“Sure,” he says. “If not, I'll text you.”

“Okay.” Her smile is warm and not for the first time he wishes he could actually let her be his mother. He knows that's what she's still wishing for. But it's just something he can't give, because he doesn't know how.

He gets into his camper and starts driving before it occurs to him that he never even texted Blaine back. But it's just fifteen minutes to his house.

When he gets there, he pulls up to the curb, cuts the engine, gets his phone out. _I'm outside_ , he sends.

It takes a minute or two before the door opens and Blaine comes out, almost running to Kurt's car, his jacket open and billowing behind him. He yanks open the passenger side door and climbs in.

“Hey,” he says. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Sure,” Kurt replies. “Where did you wanna go?”

Blaine shrugs. “Just needed to get out of the house. I don't – I don't even care, can we just -” He waves a hand. “Drive?”

“I know a place,” Kurt says, starting his car again. If Blaine doesn't wanna talk, that's all the better.

It's freezing and the roads are slippery, but Kurt knows how to drive and he knows this car. They make it to the old parking lot by the abandoned pool without problem. Blaine shows no indication of recognizing the spot from the last time they were here not that long ago, but then Blaine doesn't seem to take in much of his surroundings at all. Kurt has never seen him like this. It worries him, if he's being completely honest.

Blaine climbs through into the back first and Kurt follows, and this time it's his turn to take Blaine apart and put him back together. It takes a while.

By the time they're done, it's getting very cold in the back of the camper, and they get dressed quickly and Kurt starts on the way back to Blaine's house.

“Thank you for this,” Blaine says quietly.

Kurt smiles at him because he doesn't know what else to do. “No problem. Anytime.”

**

On New Year's Eve, Kurt gets a text just after midnight.

_Happy new year, Kurt!!_ It's followed by a bunch of smileys and pictures of exploding fireworks.

He grins, tries to hide it from his family who are gathered in the living room having their own little private celebration.

Blaine and Sam and Mercedes and even Tina had all texted him separately to invite him to their New Year's Karaoke Extravaganza in Rachel Berry's basement, where apparently the entire glee club is having a party tonight. But Kurt has to spend this day with his family. He just has to.

_Happy new year, Blaine_ , he texts back.

**

The first week of school, Kurt does his best to settle back into his routine. Things at home are hard, but. He doesn't want anyone asking questions, so he goes to class, goes to glee club where they're actually devoting the first week to competition numbers before they're all gonna have to perform their group numbers next week.

“Maybe we'll pick one of them for our invitational in two weeks,” Mr. Schue says.

Kurt thinks a week to teach everyone a new number is a little optimistic, but he doesn't comment on it. It's not like he cares about their stupid competitions anyway.

They meet up twice at Blaine's house to go over their number again, and Kurt gets the feeling each time that Blaine wants him to stay behind, but he's not in the mood these days. And Blaine doesn't push.

Finn's taken to smiling at him in the hallways at school when they pass each other and even trying to initiate conversations. Kurt's not very interested in all of that, but at least Finn is making an effort. He supposes that's worth something? It should probably mean a lot more to him than it does. But he's figured out a long time ago that caring just isn't his strong suit.

During the second week he pulls some jocks off a scared looking nerdy guy they were verbally harassing and they don't come after him. Maybe Finn actually did scare them off. 

The feeling of having someone else fight his battles for him leaves a bad taste in his mouth, not just because he hates being at Finn's mercy. If he ever changes his mind about being on Kurt's side . . . Not that Kurt really thinks he will. Finn's never really been one of the bad guys, he's just trying to get by the same way they all are. But still. Kurt's safe because someone else decided it should be so, not because he's actually able to keep them off himself, and he just doesn't like that thought.

Quinn avoids him in the hallways – she's around more these days and a few times he thinks about approaching her, trying to repair what's broken between them. But she's made her feelings perfectly clear and he's just too tired right now to fight with her.

Things are just . . . bad, at home. It's almost more than he can deal with.

“Is everything all right?” Sam asks, concern in his voice as they're walking out the second Thursday of the new year.

“Of course,” Kurt answers, and forces out a laugh before making his way home.

**

Blaine doesn't see Kurt by his locker on Friday and he doesn't really think anything of it. They don't often meet up in the mornings. He just usually sees him around somewhere.

When Tina tells him over lunch that Kurt wasn't in class today either, he starts to worry.

Kurt also doesn't show up for glee club.

Blaine takes out his phone even though rehearsal has already started and he's not supposed to.

_Where are you?_ he texts. _Are you okay?_

He doesn't get any response.

They don't have a group rehearsal after glee this afternoon because Sam has to work, so Blaine makes his lonely way home and starts on his homework.

It's just about an hour or so before dinner time and he thinks about ordering pizza because his mom has her book club tonight and won't be home until late, when the doorbell rings downstairs.

Frowning, he makes his way to the door to open it.

Outside is Kurt, shivering because he's not even wearing a jacket, his camper is parked crookedly on the street with one wheel up on the curb. His face is pale, his eyes . . . Blaine has never really understood what it was supposed to look like when people had 'pain in their eyes.' But he sees it in Kurt's eyes now.

“Kurt,” he says, and before he can say anymore, Kurt is pushing past him, stopping in the middle of the foyer with his arms wrapped around himself, breathing heavily.

Blaine closes the door, walks over to him, touches his shoulder gently. Kurt's head jerks around to him, but he allows the touch. Blaine looks into his eyes. “Hey, hey. What's wrong? What do you need?”

Kurt just shakes his head, opens and closes his mouth, but no sound is coming out.

“Come on,” Blaine says, and leads him through into the living room, pushing him down to sit on the couch. Kurt lets him.

“I -” he says, falls quiet again.

“You're freezing,” Blaine says, grabs the soft fleece blanket he likes off the armchair and carries it over to wrap around Kurt's shoulders.

“Thanks,” Kurt says. He doesn't say anything else.

Blaine's honestly starting to freak out a little. “Do you want some tea?” he asks, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

“No,” Kurt answers.

Blaine sits down next to him, takes Kurt's icy hands in his and starts rubbing them softly to warm them up. “Please, talk to me, Kurt,” he says. “Did something happen? What's wrong?”

Kurt shakes his head again, looks as if he wants to say something, but stays silent. He's shaking, and Blaine doesn't think it's just from the cold.

“What can I do?” Blaine says patiently. “I don't know how to help you if I don't know what you need.”

“Sorry,” Kurt manages eventually, and his voice is hoarse and a little thick, as if he's been trying not to cry for a really long time. “I don't even know how I got here – I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry.”

His body is visibly struggling as he makes a move to get up, and Blaine holds his hands a little tighter, pulling him back down. “No. We're friends. I want to help you if something's not right.”

Kurt pulls his hands back, slumps forward with his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his palms. “I don't even know,” he says. “I don't even – I can't – I don't know where to start.”

“You can tell me anything,” Blaine promises. “I'll listen. I'm here.”

“My dad's sick,” Kurt says. “Did I ever tell you that?”

“No.” Blaine puts a hand on Kurt's back, he just needs to be touching him somehow. Kurt doesn't shake him off. “I didn't know that.”

“He -” Kurt swallows, clears his throat. “He, um. Got sick a few years back. I – He's . . . it's bad.”

“Bad how?”

“Just . . . bad. Really bad. God.” He exhales heavily. “I feel eight years old again.”

“I'm sorry Kurt,” Blaine says. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's like it's happening all over again,” Kurt manages, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Just slower this time. I don't even know which is worse.”

“What's happening all over again?” Blaine asks patiently. 

Kurt lets out a long breath. “I was eight years old when my mom was killed in a car accident.” His voice breaks a little.

Blaine feels a cold shower run down his back. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kurt.” He doesn't have any other words, no words against Kurt's pain.

“You know what that's like?” Kurt lifts his head but doesn't look at him, instead stares straight ahead at the blackness of the TV screen. “Just playing outside with your new fire truck, being so happy because you wanted it forever and finally got it for your birthday the week before. And suddenly your dad's there and you've never seen him crying before and you just don't understand. You just can't understand that your mother who'd been promising you to make cookies later just a few hours ago is . . . just dead. That she won't ever hug you or sing with you ever again.”

Blaine shakes his head, throat tight with emotion. “No. No I don't. I can't even imagine.”

Kurt shrugs. “It was . . . bad. It was just really, really bad. For so long, it was just so, so bad. But then . . . but then it got better. You know?” Kurt bites his lip, blinks his eyes rapidly a few times. “We were getting by, and it was – We got through it. We got through it. Things were better. He met Carole and I think he was really happy and I – well, I was happy for him, even though, I -” He breaks off, sucks in a loud breath. “And then he got sick. Leukemia. I just – it was like that moment when I was eight all over again. Only this time it wasn't over quick. It's been years. Fucking _years_.”

“That's -” Blaine rubs Kurt's back, and it seems like such a pointless gesture. He doesn't much like his own dad, and his relationship with his mom is a little weird since they don't see each other all that much. But if he even just thinks about losing her, or losing Cooper . . . He can barely breathe around the feeling of fear and sadness clogging up his throat. “I can't imagine how hard that must be for you,” he says.

“The thing is, it was almost worse in the beginning.” He swallows. “Isn't that weird? How you just start . . . integrating these things into your life eventually? Back in sophomore year I stayed home for two entire weeks that one time he was in the hospital. I just . . . couldn't. You know? But eventually – eventually it – well, it didn't get easier, not really. But you just kind of learn to keep going anyway. Despite all of it. All that shit just becomes part of your daily life, and I don't know if that really makes it better. I don't think it does. You're just – you just get used to everything sucking so much, and you stop hoping for any of it to get better. It gets normal, Like things are just supposed to be bad.”

Blaine nods. “Yeah. I think I get that.”

“He just got worse all the time,” Kurt continues. “It – they said – he was in the hospital a lot and at first they thought it was working, but . . . He needs a transplant. Bone marrow. We've been . . . we've been searching for so long. I got tested a while ago. I had to bully my father into letting me get tested, actually. Apparently even donating is not without risk. But I'm not a match. I can't help him. I can't save him. I just – I mean, hell, even _Finn_ got tested.”

“I could -” Blaine stops himself. He doesn't want to promise something that he doesn't even know anything about. Offering help is just a reflex. But this is serious.

“They found a donor,” Kurt says. “We just found out.”

Blaine feels his eyes widen. “Really? Isn't that – isn't that a good thing?”

“I mean, it's still not a guarantee. There's still so much that can go wrong. But . . . yeah. That's why I don't understand -” Kurt gestures at his face, “this. Why I'm – I should be happy. I _am_ happy. I just -”

“No. Kurt.” Blaine leans forward, reaches for Kurt's cold hands again to squeeze them tightly in his own. “This was a lot for you. Of course you can't just shake that all off in a moment. God, Kurt. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry you had to -”

“It makes no sense,” Kurt interrupts. “I just needed to get out. We've – we've known since yesterday afternoon and I stayed home today, I – we celebrated. All day. We celebrated. And I couldn't – It's just – it's just, it's been so long and we . . . I just needed to get out and _god_ I can't even be there for him now and be happy for him? I just -”

He looks angry. Hurt. So, so tired. It breaks Blaine's heart. “Give yourself a break,” he says. “You've been strong for him all these years.”

“I tried,” Kurt says. “And I just fucked it all up all the fucking time. I made him worse.”

“You didn't.”

“What do _you_ even know about it?” Kurt spits at him, turning to give him a furious glare. “You weren't there. You don't know _anything_.”

“I didn't mean -”

Kurt deflates, looks at him almost pleadíngly. “Oh god, I'm sorry. You're just trying to help after I barge in on you like that and I – I'm an asshole. But I guess you know that by now.”

“You're not,” Blaine disagrees. “You're exhausted.”

“I should be stronger than this. I should deal with it better. I should be _happy_. I -”

“You feel what you feel,” Blaine says. “You're entitled to that. You have the right to feel tired.”

“That song,” Kurt says. “The one I gave you a few months ago?”

“The Simon and Garfunkel song for the duet? _Bridge Over Troubled Water_?”

“Yeah.” Kurt sits up a little, pulls his hands back into his own lap. His eyes are red but he doesn't cry. “It was for him. I was – Back then. I was – It was all different. I was gonna join the glee club, actually.” He throws Blaine a lopsided grin that looks more like a grimace. “Can you believe that?”

“You did?”

“I thought – I had all kinds of ideas, back then. And my dad – It wasn't easy, you know? People pick on you when you make yourself a target. I suppose you know that. I didn't need to put my dad through that extra stress of worrying about me all the time.”

“You . . . didn't join because . . . because . . .”

“It would have just been a bad idea,” Kurt says. “It doesn't matter. I just – I just wanted him to get better. He's all I have. I couldn't add any more stress to his life.”

Blaine watches as Kurt takes a deep breath, and then another, and he doesn't know what to do. “I'm sorry,” he says again, lamely.

“I can't go home like this,” Kurt says, staring down at his knees. “I can't let him see me like this.”

“Then stay,” Blaine offers. “As long as you need. I'm here, Kurt.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Kurt asks, and he's starting to shake again. “I've been really fucking horrible to you.”

“I don't remember you being horrible,” Blaine says. “You're too hard on yourself.”

“I should go,” Kurt says, but he still doesn't get up, and his breathing is labored as if he's holding himself back from just . . . breaking down.

“I'm not letting you drive like this,” Blaine tells him firmly. “No way.”

“How would you even stop me? Why do you even _care_?”

“Why did you come here, Kurt?” Blaine asks, shifting closer to him. “We're friends, right?”

Kurt meets his eyes and there's nothing but pain in them. “Blaine -”

“I care about you,” Blaine says. “Whether you like it or not.”

Kurt bites his lip, doesn't say anything, but his face sort of starts to crumple. Blaine pulls him into his arms and Kurt doesn't resist, doesn't do much of anything. He just puts his head down on Blaine's shoulder, lets Blaine hold him.

Blaine wraps one arm firmly around his back, cards his other hand through Kurt's hair, and presses a kiss to his temple, starts whispering to him, rocking him softly from side to side.

Kurt barely makes a sound and Blaine almost wishes he would just let himself cry, just let it all out. But Kurt simply stays slumped in his arms, fists curled into the back of Blaine's cardigan, and breathes and doesn't shed a single tear.

Blaine holds him closer and aches with Kurt's pain, and wonders how anyone can be this strong.

**

Kurt makes it home in time for dinner. He's glad about that – they don't need to know he's had an emotional breakdown this afternoon. It's embarrassing enough that it happened.

He's not even sure what made him drive to Blaine's house. There's no _reason_ for it. Not really. It's not like he got in his camper and said to himself, _I'm going to go to my friend Blaine's house and spill all my secrets to him_. That's not what happened. He'd just sort of ended up there. And Blaine . . . he knows Blaine won't tell anyone. Blaine wouldn't do that to him. Kurt is not even sure how he knows that, but he does.

“Hey, buddy,” his dad says as he enters the living room. “Good meeting with your friends?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “We're gonna perform our number next week, you know, otherwise I wouldn't have -”

“You can hang out with your friends whenever you want,” his dad shakes his head at him. “I keep telling you that. You don't have to put your life on hold for me. In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't.”

“You know it's not like that, dad.”

“Yeah, well.” His father smiles at him, that same smile that's always made Kurt smile back since he was a little boy. “It's all gonna be better now, right?”

“Right,” Kurt says and then Carole needs him to help Finn set the table and he gets distracted.

“You okay?” Finn asks quietly as he hands Kurt a stack of plates.

The smile Kurt finds for him is real this time. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I am.”

It's not the truth, but it's close enough. Close enough that it might actually be true some day.


	11. Chapter 11

They perform their number on Monday and Blaine hopes just a little that Kurt will come home with him afterwards, but he says he can't. Blaine understands. He finally understands a lot more things and as much as he'd like to spend time with Kurt, he gets why he wants to be home right now.

Their performance goes well. It's fun. Sam plays guitar, Mercedes sounds amazing as always, and so does Kurt, actually. He seems more relaxed. Not happy, but just . . . more relaxed. It makes Blaine smile to see it.

“Dude,” Sam says afterwards, high-fiving all of them. “If this were a competition, we'd have _rocked_ it.”

“Totally,” Blaine agrees.

Mercedes links her arm through Kurt's, who lets her. He even leans into her a little.

Blaine feels his smile widen.

They don't have to meet up anymore as a group now, but Blaine still makes a point of finding Kurt in the hallways all through the week, all through the next week too. Kurt talks with him, is entirely pleasant, walks with him and Sam and Tina and Mercedes. But he turns down every invitation to meet up after school.

Blaine texts him, and Kurt always eventually replies, but he never comes over anymore.

That afternoon in Blaine's house, when Kurt had finally talked to him, had seemed like kind of a breakthrough in their relationship. Blaine feels bad expecting anything because of it, but he had hoped a little that things would change between them. And they have changed. But not the way Blaine wanted them to.

It's three weeks after their group number by the time Kurt comes over again. It's a Tuesday and Blaine had a special superhero club meeting, and he's excited about the movie night they all have planned for the following week. He wishes he could invite Kurt to it, but he's sure that's not Kurt's thing.

But Kurt listens to him go on and on about his favorite movies, laughs, makes fun of him for being a nerd. And then they have sex on Blaine's bed and it's good, and Blaine feels reassured that things are still normal between them.

Maybe things can even be better than normal.

“Kurt?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think -” he doesn't know how to ask this. But there's nothing to lose, right? It's just a simple question. Kurt can always just say no.

“I do think occasionally,” Kurt says when Blaine doesn't continue. He reaches over from where he's lying next to him and pinches Blaine's arm. “Were you asking about something specific?”

“Haha.” Blaine rolls over onto his side, still naked, and looks at Kurt, who's still equally naked. “I was just thinking,” he starts. “And don't get mad at me, I just – Would you ever want to, you know, go on a date? With me?”

Kurt suddenly looks sad. “Blaine, no,” he whispers.

“Oh.” Blaine tries his best to smile. “Okay. Yeah. No. Of course not. Sorry, I just -”

“No,” Kurt says. “You don't understand. I just . . . can't.”

“Why not?” Blaine wants to know. “You're not seeing anyone else. Neither am I. And I – I like you.”

“You shouldn't,” Kurt says.

“Why not?”

“I'll fuck it up.” Kurt's voice is quiet. “That's what I do, Blaine. I'll hurt you.”

“You don't -” Blaine starts, but Kurt cuts him off.

“It looks like I already have.”

“You haven't.”

“Shit. I should have known.” Kurt lightly touches Blaine's hand with his fingers, then draws back. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I didn't mean to.”

Blaine sits up, stares at him. “I don't believe that this meant nothing to you.”

“We agreed, Blaine,” Kurt reminds him. “Bros helping bros, remember? That's all it was ever supposed to be.” He sits up too, holds Blaine's gaze as if he's willing him to understand.

“But it turned into more. Isn't that a good thing?”

“It didn't,” Kurt says, “Not for me. I'm sorry.”

Blaine feels his heart hurting in his chest, and if Tina dumping him had felt bad, this feels worse. “Oh.”

“I should – leave,” Kurt says, and Blaine doesn't stop him as he gets up, dresses himself quickly.

“Okay,” Blaine says. “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

At the door, Kurt looks back at him, and his face is so . . . sad. “Blaine, I really am sorry,” he says. “But you're – you're a really good guy. Okay? This is all me, this is my fuck up, not yours. You're . . . a really good person. You deserve – you deserve something real. Okay? Don't – don't settle like this. I'm sorry I ever dragged you into this mess. I'm sorry.”

And then he leaves.

And Blaine tries very hard not to, but he feels a little like the world just ended.

**

Kurt skips glee club for the rest of the week. He tells himself it's to give Blaine some space, but if he's being really honest with himself, he couldn't stand seeing him right now either. It hurts too much.

But he did the right thing. Blaine is a good guy and he doesn't deserve a mess like him. Someone who'll just use him because he isn't capable of anything more.

It sucks, it sucks so much, but at least some things are still good. His dad has a chance of surviving, now. He might get to keep his family. Isn't that enough?

Friday after school, when he'd usually have to be in glee club, he drives out to his secret spot instead. His dad can't know that he's skipping anything and he has nowhere else he could go. He's pretty sure Sue will be lenient with him for just missing a couple of rehearsals – he'll make up a bullshit sob story about his father's health and she'll leave him alone.

He's never really understood why she isn't as mean to him as she is to everyone else.

When he gets to the pool, Quinn's aunt's car is parked there already.

He sighs – that's one confrontation he could do without right now. But she'll have heard his camper pull into the parking lot, and he can't be a fucking coward about this too. Besides, this is a public place, not her private property. If she doesn't want him here, _she_ can leave.

So he gets out, pulls his jacket tighter around himself. It's still fucking freezing in Ohio. He won't be able to stay here long.

When he crawls through the fence, he sees Quinn sitting on a thick blanket at the side of the pool.

“Are you trying to catch your death?” He asks her.

She doesn't say anything, and when he approaches her, he can see that she's been crying. Her eyes are red, streaks of eyeliner smudged all over her cheeks.

Without a second thought, he's kneeling next to her on the blanket. “Hey. What happened?”

She shakes her head, sighs. “You were fucking right is what happened.”

“What – about what?”

“Richard,” she says. “He is a dick. He's nothing but a fucking jerk.”

Kurt feels a coldness rising inside. “What did he do? Do I need to pay him a visit?”

“He's fucking married,” she manages, wipes her eyes with the back of one hand. “He's a fucking liar who was fucking married the whole fucking time, and he even has three fucking kids. That's why his apartment looked so weird and sparse, because it's just the place he takes other girls to fuck them.”

“Shit,” Kurt says. “Seriously?” The anger he feels is almost choking him. “I'm gonna kill him.”

“What good will that do? Everything's already gone to shit. No point now. I should have known. I should have fucking known.” She picks up a pack of cigarettes from the blanket, shakes one out, lights it. “Remember when I thought he had an affair?”

“Well, I guess you were right about that, weren't you?”

She takes a long drag of her cigarette, then stabs it against the ground, curses. “Fuck. I've smoked so much today my throat hurts. Can't even keep slowly killing myself.”

“Don't hurt yourself over that fucking asshole.”

She looks up at the sky, blinks as if holding back tears, breathes deeply. “At least I had someone. I wish I'd just never found out. Wouldn't have fucking mattered. At least I had _someone_.”

It doesn't matter that they haven't spoken in months, it doesn't matter that their last conversation was a fight. This is Quinn. And no one has the right to hurt her. “He never deserved you,” Kurt says. “Married or not.”

Quinn doesn't say anything, but a single tear is rolling down her cheek and Kurt can't stand it. He just pulls her into a hug and presses his face into her hair.

He wonders why some people just can't seem to catch a break. Fuck. It's just not fair.

“Come on,” he says. “Let's go home.”

“I don't wanna be in my aunt's house right now.”

“My home,” he clarifies. “I'll make you a cup of tea and we can . . . talk or whatever. If you want we can drive by Richard the Dick's house and slash his tires.”

For a moment, she hugs him back. “I really missed you, you know?” she says.

“I really missed you too,” he says, and means it.

**

He takes her upstairs into his room after making them both some tea, and no one reminds them to leave the door open after one look at her, even if they still think she's his ex-girlfriend. It's pretty clear she just needs someone to talk to right now. In private.

“I just wanted something good, you know?” she confesses, sitting on his bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. “I thought he might be that. He was nice and considerate and he bought me things. I thought he cared about me.”

“I can still go and slash his tires if you want me to,” Kurt offers.

“Nah.” She takes a sip of her tea. “I don't wanna get you in trouble.”

Kurt nods. “Okay. But if I ever do meet him, I'm gonna have a few choice words for him.”

Quinn stares down into her mug, then sighs. “Can we – can we talk about something else? For a bit? I just really would like to not think about this.”

“Sure.” Kurt pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged on his desk chair. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“How's glee club?”

Kurt shrugs. “Kind of okay? Actually?” He thinks for a second. “Have you ever considered -”

“Don't ask me to come back there.” She laughs. “That's all in the past. And it can stay there.”

“Mercedes misses you,” Kurt tells her.

“She said that?”

“Yeah.” It's not that he can really see Quinn in glee club anymore. It's not that he even actually likes glee club all that much. But . . . she's so lonely. And if he knows anything about those idiots it's that they wouldn't hurt her. He can barely stand the magnitude of her loneliness.

She squints at him over her mug. “You've been making friends there, haven't you?”

“No. I mean – not really? I – No.”

“I see you with Blaine all the time.”

“He's . . . just . . . He's nothing.” Kurt can feel his face going hot and lowers it, but Quinn knows him too well.

She tilts her head, looks at him curiously. “Okay, what are you not telling me?”

“Nothing,” Kurt hurries to say. “Nothing, I – nothing.”

“Oh my god.” Quinn's eyes widen. “Are you fucking him?”

Kurt's head snaps up, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “What? Why are you . . . What?”

“I've had my suspicions about you sometimes,” Quinn says with a smirk, takes another sip of tea.

“I'm not – I don't – I'm not -”

“It's okay if you are.” She looks him straight in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“But I'm not,” he insists. “At least . . . I'm not sure.”

“Not sure if you're having sex with him? I think you'd notice if you were.”

“No.” He searches for the right words, but they're hard to find. “I'm not – I'm not sure – I'm just not sure what I'm doing anymore, I guess.”

“So you are fucking him?”

It's no use denying it. “Okay. Yeah.”

“And you like it?”

“. . . Yeah.”

She stretches out her legs, seems to think for a second. “Maybe you're bi.”

He lifts his shoulders. “Maybe. I don't know. It's – it's different with him. When we were – you and I . . . it's different with him.”

“Better?”

He meets her eyes .”Quinn -”

“It's okay if the answer is yes,” she says. “I won't be offended. It was fun with you, it was good, but I think we both know that we were never exactly -” She makes a face. “You know.”

“He asked me out,” Kurt tells her. “On a date. Just the other day.”

“What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I said no. I broke things off with him.”

Quinn frowns. “But why? So . . . you _don't_ like him?”

“I – that's not the point.”

“Kurt, that's the _only_ point.”

“No, it's not. It doesn't matter what I feel, I can't let him -”

“Why doesn't it matter?” She sounds exasperated. “He obviously likes you if he asked you out. So if you like him back, why would you say no?”

“Because I'll fuck him up the way I fucked myself up. I thought if anyone understood that, it would be you.”

“Okay. I get where you're coming from,” Quinn admits. “But, you know, all I'm trying to do, all I've been trying to do this whole time, is to finally find something that's not all fucked up and broken. Don't you want that?”

He doesn't know what to say to that. “I don't know.”

“Kurt,” she says. “Life has sucked a lot for the both of us for a long time. You know I understand that. But if this guy likes you and you feel the same way about him, isn't that worth a risk? I mean, even if he's kind of a nerd. If he likes you, does any of that even matter? Can things really get any more fucked up then they are now? If you have this one good thing that could actually make you happy for once in your life, don't you want that?”

He stares at her and has no answer. None that he's quite ready to give just now anyway.

**

Kurt's weekend is a mess.

Well, the weekend itself is fine; his family is okay for once, hopeful again after all this time. And he has his best friend back, which is great. But his head is confused and when he doesn't feel like screaming he feels like crying.

Quinn comes over every day. She has a lot of feelings to work through, the same way Kurt does.

They're not big talkers, never have been, so they sit in silence a lot, Kurt helps Quinn dye her hair again, and they go for a drive out to their spot – this time just to sit at the edge of the pool, not to crawl into the back of his camper. Kurt even brings cinnamon rolls.

“You're thinking about him again, aren't you?” Quinn asks as they get back into the camper once it's getting too cold for them outside.

“Yes,” Kurt admits. “I am.”

“I still think you should go for it,” she says.

He stares out of the windshield and doesn't start the engine. “I think I've really hurt him. Why should he believe me now if I told him wanted to try?”

“Do you want to try?”

It's all he's been able to think about for days now. And his feelings keep going in the same tired circle: if he thinks about being honest with Blaine and trying to have more, he starts to panic. And if he imagines letting Blaine fade away from his life, he panics too. He's scared of everything. No matter what he decides to do, he'll be afraid. He's the most pathetic human being on the planet one way or another. “I don't know.”

Quinn is silent for a moment. “I've known you for a long time,” she says eventually. “And I've seen you hit rock bottom a number of times, Kurt.”

“I know.”

“But I've never seen you quite like this.”

He turns his head to look at her. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You've always felt powerless,” she says. “It was what made you so angry, wasn't it? But you aren't powerless now. You can do something about this. And I think that scares you even more. Having to decide your own fate.”

“What, are you a fucking psychologist now?” He scowls at her.

She smiles. “You're going to be uncomfortable no matter what you do,” she points out. “The question is whether you want to feel awful because you've just let things happen to you, or if you want to get up off your ass and finally get the life you fucking deserve.”

He sighs. “Where would I even start?”

She grins at him. “I have an idea. But you're not gonna like it.”

“What is it?”

“Something drastic.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “It's gonna take balls. But I can say with some authority that I know yours are perfectly adequate, if that's a concern.”

He laughs at her. “You're a pig.”

“Maybe.” She reaches over and pats his leg. “But if you're willing to sacrifice your dignity and self-esteem, I may have a way for you to fix this.”

“It's not like I have much of either left at this point,” Kurt says.

“Well then.” Quinn waves at the steering wheel. “Drive. We have work to do.”


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt is back in glee club on Monday. Blaine is glad to see him, even if it hurts a little. More than a little, if he's being honest. It really hurts quite a lot, seeing him sitting there so beautiful, so perfect, so precious to Blaine even now that it's all over between them.

His body still reacts to Kurt even if it shouldn't. Kurt is breathtaking. It's everything about him; the way he holds himself, his eyes, the way he moves. The way his voice sends shivers of longing into every corner of Blaine's body. His strength, his courage, his sadness and anger and the way he cares so deeply he has to lock that part of his soul away so he can't hurt himself with it. 

Sometimes Blaine doesn't know what he wants more: to bury his face in Kurt's neck and hold him tight enough to feel like they're one person, be as close as he possibly can, or stand back and observe Kurt in his entirety, the whole beautiful, perfect picture of him. But he's made it so that neither of these things is an option anymore.

Maybe he should have been content with what they had instead of opening his stupid big mouth and scare Kurt away with all his feelings.

Mr. Schue stands up in front of the class and has just started with, “Okay, our invitational is going to be -” When Kurt in the back row raises his hand high in the air.

“Mr. Schuester?”

Everyone in the room, including Blaine, is staring at Kurt, perplexed. Mr. Schuester has the same expression on his face. Kurt's been better about participating these past few weeks, but he's never exactly made an effort before. He's never once raised his hand for anything.

“Kurt,” Mr. Schuester says. “What's up?”

“I was just thinking,” Kurt says, “I have never actually auditioned for glee club, have I? And now that we're headed into competitions, maybe I should.”

Mr. Schuester blinks at him, clearly lost for words. “Um, Kurt – I mean, if you want to, you're welcome to sing for us. But it's really not necessary anymore, we've all heard you during your duet and your group number.”

“All right,” Kurt says patiently. “But that's not my only reason for asking, to be honest. I would like to . . .” He sounds so fucking polite and it's obvious how much this costs him, but he takes a breath, continues on. “I have . . . what is it you guys always call it? I have – something to express. If I may.”

“Oh.” Mr. Schuester looks at him like a proud father, steps aside as he waves him to the front. “Yes, sure. We'll all be happy to listen!”

Kurt walks to the front, stands there with his hands folded in front of him for a minute while he gathers himself. Blaine watches, barely daring to breathe in anticipation of what's going to happen next.

“This is . . . not easy for me,” Kurt says finally, not meeting any of their eyes. “But I've been a fu- a coward for so long. And I don't want to be anymore. I wasn't honest about who I was. Not with any of you, and not even with myself. But I'm tired of lying. So.” He raises his eyes, looks directly at Blaine, and Blaine feels his heart give a jolt at the scared, pleading look in Kurt's eyes. He can see the way Kurt's hands are shaking. “This is my audition, but it's also . . . well. It's just something I wanted to say, I guess.”

Blaine can't look away, can barely even blink as Kurt, eyes nervous but determined, turns his head to nod at the band who start playing.

He knows the song. It's one of his favorites. And Kurt is singing it directly to him.

“ _I walked across and empty land, I knew the pathway like the back of my hand -_ ”

His voice is so beautiful, and he doesn't take his eyes off Blaine for a second.

“ _Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on -_ ”

Blaine looks back at him, doesn't dare to hope. He can feel tears burning in his eyes, can feel all of the others looking back and forth between him and Kurt and he doesn't care about any of it. All he can do it sit, and listen, and watch Kurt stand there with has hands clasped in front of him so tightly his knuckles are white.

He's unpracticed and it isn't perfect, but he's doing it. Three whole minutes he's doing this, standing there, looking uncomfortable but seeing it through, not wavering for a second.

The fucking strongest person Blaine has ever known. He has no idea how Kurt can't see that about himself.

The song ends, and Kurt lowers his head, doesn't meet any of their eyes.

People are clapping and cheering for him and Mr. Schue is putting a hand on his shoulder approvingly. “That was great, Kurt. I think I speak for everyone when I say: welcome to the glee club. Officially.”

Kurt nods, lifts his head to look at Blaine for just a second. Blaine flickers a smile at him, nods his head slightly. Kurt smiles back shakily, then walks over to his usual seat in the back without another word.

The rest of the rehearsal is . . . well, it just is. He doesn't take in a whole lot of it. They're running through some numbers, try a new bit of choreography, Mike and Brittany show them an idea they came up with for a dance solo. It's amazing, but Blaine watches with his mind not really in the moment.

All he can think of is Kurt.

**

After glee club, Kurt stays in his seat, for once not the first to run out of the room. He waits.

Rachel is hanging back talking Mr. Schue's ear off about her competition solo and how she's worried that people will be distracted if Mike and Brittany dance a solo right afterwards and Mr. Schue seems to be actually considering canceling their solo for Rachel's sake. Kurt sort of tunes them out, just sits in his chair and waits, watches Blaine talking to Sam and Tina by the door and waving them off after a minute or so, walking back into the room.

Mr. Schue is leading Rachel out by the arm while she's still talking a mile a minute and Blaine looks after them, shaking his head almost fondly. “Rachel,” he says. “So talented, but so jealous sometimes.”

“She does love her spotlight, doesn't she?” Kurt grins.

“Yeah. Guess we all do.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kurt says. “I'm not really sure I'd want that sort of attention.” He waits as he sees Blaine's smile turn apprehensive.

“And yet you stood up in front of all of us today.”

“I had something to say. And I wanted to make sure you knew I meant it.” His heart is beating double time, he's almost more nervous now than he'd been before opening his mouth and singing a fucking solo in front of the whole room. He'd been sure he'd throw up or faint or just miss every single note once he started singing. He's still surprised at the fact that it all went relatively smoothly.

“You could have just talked to me, you know?” Blaine walks up the steps to the back row, takes the seat next to him. “If you had something to say.”

Kurt shakes his head. “No. I – This was -” He wants to say, _I've been so scared, and I've let my own fear rule my life for too long_. He wants to say, _I thought not letting anything touch me ever was what made me strong, but you've taught me the true meaning of courage_. He wants to say, _I think you don't understand how much it shocked me, that you just wanted to be my friend even when I was being myself. No one's ever seen me and still wanted me. Not like this_. What he says is, “I needed you to believe me..”

“Believe what?”

He takes a breath. “That I'm sorry. And that I was wrong.”

Blaine pauses. “About what?”

Kurt has to close his eyes for a second. “About – everything? Kind of? I -” He'd planned carefully what he wanted to say, but he can't remember any of it now.

“I'm not sure what you mean,” Blaine says tentatively. “I need you to tell me what you mean by that, Kurt.”

He swallows, nods, opens his eyes again. “I – um. I was . . . scared. And I took that out on you. And that wasn't fair.”

“You . . . didn't -” Blaine frowns. “You didn't take anything out on me.”

“What I said before.” Kurt curls his fingers into his own thighs to try and stop his hands from shaking. “About, um. Not being honest? That was – I wasn't honest with you.”

“Okay,” Blaine says hesitantly.

“I mean, I -” Kurt has to take a breath, and then another one. He doesn't remember breathing being this difficult. “What I mean is . . . whatever was going on between us this whole time scared the shit out of me. So I – guess I just . . . denied it?” He exhales, forces his lungs to expand again. There's cold sweat on the back of his neck and on his palms. “But you are my friend. You are – you're my friend. And I don't want to deny that anymore.”

“Kurt -” Blaine turns sideways in his chair, facing him. “I just – You don't have to apologize. I'm – just, I really, really . . . you don't have to do this for me. You can't – If you're not ready . . . I would never ask you to.”

“But don't you understand,” Kurt says. “I'm just trying – I guess I'm trying to prove something? Like . . . I know what it feels like to just be used. I shouldn't have . . . I shouldn't have done that to you. I want to make it up to you, I guess. So, I don't know, if you still wanted to -”

Blaine sighs. “ You don't have to prove anything. And there's nothing you have to make up to me. We did what we did because we both wanted to. And if it wasn't for you what it was for me, then that's fine. I don't want you to pretend for my sake. You know, if I learned anything from my previous relationship it's that it shouldn't require that much effort. It shouldn't -”

“But that's just the thing.” Kurt turns toward him too, makes himself meet Blaine's eyes even though his chest tight with nerves. Courage, he tells himself. Too late to run now. “It doesn't. When I'm with you it's just . . . well, maybe not easy. But it just seems, I mean, it's just right.”

Blaine looks surprised. “It is?”

He nods. “Well, yeah. Maybe not at first. Like, I seriously thought you were kind of a weird nerd and just sort of tragically misguided for actually believing in all this singing crap.”

Blaine smiles. “And now?”

“I actually like all of that about you. I can't – I still think it's weird. But . . . I like that it's weird. I like that you still do it. I like – I like you. And I'm sorry that I made you think I didn't.”

Blaine's smile widens. “You like me?”

Kurt feels some of the tension drain out of his body at the soft expression on Blaine's face. He laughs just a little shakily. “Oh my god, you jerk, I just sang you a fucking song in front of the whole fucking glee club. What else do you want, sky writing?”

“I wouldn't say no to sky writing.”

“I take it back. I don't like you anymore.”

Blaine's face turns serious. “No, but Kurt. I just want to say, I really loved the song. And I can't believe you did that. I know . . . well, I know how difficult that must have been for you, and I just want you to know how much it meant to me.”

“I just -” Kurt sighs. “It was time I just got the fuck over myself. I've been – I've been such a coward.”

Blaine's face falls. “What? You really think that?”

“It's the truth.”

“No,” Blaine says. “No, it isn't. You're the bravest person I know.”

“We'll have to agree to disagree,” Kurt says, feeling embarrassed. “Anyway, I've said what I wanted to say. So, I guess, I guess I'll give you some time? To . . . I don't know. Think about it. Or not. I mean, you don't have to, I just -”

“Kurt,” Blaine cuts him off.

“What?”

“I have thought about it.”

“It's been two minutes, Blaine, you can't have -”

“I've thought about it for weeks,” Blaine says. “I'm pretty sure about what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“To be your friend,” Blaine says. “Or whatever it is we are.”

Kurt feels relief flooding his body, lowers his head to stare at the dirty floor. “Okay,” he says. “Yes, okay. I'd like that.”

Blaine takes his hand and Kurt feels his heart hammering in his chest, but it's not just fear anymore. It's not all bad. At least he hasn't fucked everything up just yet.

**

Blaine feels like he's walking on air for days – no one has ever serenaded him before. And even though he's still not quite sure that Kurt meant it like _that_ , he's still happy. And they're finally friends again. Real friends. He still wants more, but he knows Kurt doesn't, and getting to hang out with him and exchange glances and soft smiles is already something he'd never thought he'd get.

The hanging out – they'd done that part before. But the smiles and the looks – that part is new.

Kurt joins them for Saturday movie night that week. Sam and Tina are there, as well as Mercedes, and Blaine's heart jumps a little in his chest when Kurt sits next to him with their sides pressed together as they're settling in to watch _Mary Poppins_.

“I should have known you all have terrible taste in movies,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes as Sam pops the DVD in.

“Last time we watched _Star Wars_ ,” Tina points out.

Kurt laughs. “Like that's any better.”

But Blaine notices Kurt mouthing along to all the songs, and he smiles to himself and doesn't say anything. Kurt catches him staring halfway through the movie and lowers his eyes, blushing a little, and Blaine nudges their arms together.

“Having fun?” he whispers.

“Shut up,” Kurt murmurs, but there's a smile twitching around his lips.

They haven't had sex since Kurt sang to him, but Blaine kind of gets that this time, Kurt staying away from him means something different. He's not avoiding him. It's almost as if he's being careful, considerate. As if he's giving both of them time to let things settle around them the way they're supposed to.

And in a way, Blaine feels closer to him now than he did a lot of the time when they were naked together.

If this is what Kurt wants, Blaine can give him that.

He's in love, and if Kurt ever wanted more again, he'd give him that too. But having him in his life like this is better than being without him completely.

As the others leave, Kurt lingers over tying his shoes and arranging his scarf until everyone has cleared out.

“By the way,” he says, almost casually as Blaine waits for him to gather his stuff. “My dad's doing a lot better. I just – wanted you to know. Because of – you know. My freakout the other week.”

“Kurt, that's great,” Blaine says, bouncing a little on his feet, heart lifting. It's so hard not to hug him. “I'm so happy for you!”

Kurt stares down at his feet and smiles. “I'm happy too,” he says.

He doesn't stay. But Blaine feels so privileged and so glad to have been trusted with that information. Kurt is protective of his family and of his feelings. Sharing these things with Blaine is a big deal for him and Blaine knows it.

He's so happy to be someone Kurt trusts like this.

**

Glee club doesn't get any less crazy after Kurt has bared his soul to them – if anything, they all go even more insane as they finally hold their Invitational and start preparing for Sectionals afterwards.

Quinn teases him mercilessly about all the singing he has to do, and every time he just hugs her and reminds her that she actually did the same thing and was actually invested in it for almost two years.

It should be easier, hanging out with Blaine now. After things are cleared up between them. Except that Kurt knows, deep down, that they aren't really cleared up at all. 

He'd been meaning to finally be brave, be honest, let himself say what he wants. Everything he'd told Blaine had been the truth, but it hadn't been the entire truth, and that fact sits heavily on his shoulders. There's still one more thing he needs to say, and it shouldn't be this scary anymore. He sees the way Blaine looks at him. He remembers Blaine asking him outright after the last time they'd had sex. And yet . . . he just cannot find the words.

They hang out, after glee club, they have that one movie night, they have the occasional coffee at the Lima Bean, usually with Tina, Sam, or Mercedes tagging along. Even Quinn, on one occasion. But he doesn't go over to Blaine's house by himself. He doesn't want to do this wrong. He wants to try to do it right.

Being friends is nice, but, as Quinn keeps reminding him, if there's something he really wants, something he thinks could really make him happy, isn't that worth a risk? He took a risk singing that solo. But what he's trying to do now is every scarier. Mostly because he has no idea at all what he's doing, or if it's even a good idea.

It's all going too fast. Days are flying by the way his whole life has been rushing past him all this time, and all he wants is a break. To give himself some place safe, where he can be himself and rest. He wants some kind of peace for once.

He wants a lot of things, and he feels shaky and weak with it, cracked open now that he's allowed himself to take a look inside his own heart and see what's there. He wants a lot of things, even if he doesn't think he should. He's never allowed himself this, and until a few months ago didn't even know it was an option.

But now he looks at Blaine and . . . he feels weak. In the end, it feels more like giving in than pushing forward bravely.

They're in the choir room – Blaine had to stay behind after rehearsal to talk to the band about something, and Kurt simply stays in his seat, too exhausted to run at this point. He waves Mercedes and Sam away as they're asking if he's okay. He's not okay. But he's working on it. Or . . . he's giving up working against it.

“Kurt,” Blaine says as the band leaves and he notices Kurt still sitting in the back row. “Were you waiting for me?”

Kurt nods. “Actually,” he says. “Yeah. I was.”

“Oh.” Blaine climbs up to him, sits down in the next chair. “What's up?”

Kurt shrugs. “I – can we talk?”

“Sure.” Blaine looks a little worried. “We can – Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine,” Kurt says, bites his lip. “Blaine . . . we're friends, right?”

“Of course we are.” Blaine smiles at him. “You know that.”

Kurt gathers his courage, just one more time, just to see this all the way through. Now or never, he thinks. You can do this. “Would you maybe . . . I'm sorry if this is stupid. I just – oh god, this sounds silly no matter how you put it, doesn't it? “ He laughs.

“What?” Blaine asks.

Kurt exhales, shrugs one shoulder, doesn't quite manage to meet Blaine's eyes. “I, uh, would you – you can just tell me to go fuck myself if this is completely out of line, but would you – would you maybe consider . . . more? If that option is still on the table?”

Blaine is quiet for a moment. “You mean -”

Kurt lifts his head back up, makes himself look at Blaine's beautiful, perfect face, and he can't get over just how _lovely_ Blaine is as he looks back at him. “I guess what I'm asking is.” He swallows hard. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes!” Blaine says, almost before Kurt has even finished the question. “Yes, I will.”

“Really?”

Instead of a response, Blaine braces his hands on Kurt's knees and leans up and in to touch his lips to Kurt's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Maybe that is a response, Kurt thinks as he kisses him back. Maybe it's the best response Blaine could have given him.

As they walk out of the building side by side, Kurt slides a hand against Blaine's palm, laces his fingers through Blaine's. Blaine's breath falters a little, but then he grips back tightly.

Kurt's heart is pounding in his chest and he's scared so much he thinks he might actually throw up once he gets home. And maybe it was foolish of him to think that doing this would make all of his fears just disappear. 

But maybe courage doesn't mean not being afraid. Maybe it just means carrying on anyway.

He holds Blaine's hand and doesn't let go.


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine convinces him to have their first date at Breadstix and Kurt agrees because he doesn't have any idea where else they could really go in Lima. If it weren't the middle of winter and fucking _freezing_ outside, he might have insisted on just driving out to the old pool – there's a small forest just down the path off the parking lot and the small clearing in front of it would have been a nice spot to just . . . sit and have sandwiches.

“Like a picnic?” Blaine asks. “Aww, that's so romantic.”

“No,” Kurt says, blushing furiously. “Not like a fucking picnic. Just like two people sitting on a blanket outside having a sandwich and maybe some cake or whatever. Shut up.”

“That is exactly what a picnic is, though.”

“No, it isn't.”

“Is too.”

Kurt tackles him to the bed and kisses him until he shuts up.

They plan their date for Saturday, and for Friday night Kurt has another plan, one that makes him nervous all over again, but he knows this is the right thing to do. No more secrets. No more hiding. He doesn't want to come up with excuses all the fucking time.

“Dad?” he says, Thursday after dinner, sitting in the living room together.

“What is it, kiddo?”

“I'd like to, um. Would it be okay if . . . I'd really like it if Blaine could join us for Friday night dinner this week.”

His dad's face lights up. Kurt knows he's wanted to meet his new friends for a while now. “Sure thing. Your friend Blaine from glee club?”

“Well . . .” Kurt bites his lip. “He's . . . a little more than a friend? Actually?”

Kurt knows his dad loves him, and he knows his dad is a pretty awesome guy who's pretty good at accepting people for who they are, but they have never talked about this particular topic before. There has never been a reason before.

“Oh.” His dad frowns, obviously thinking hard. “You – you mean.”

Kurt nods tentatively. “He's, I mean. We're sort of dating? I guess? I mean. We haven't – called it that yet, but I think – um. Is that. Is that – okay?”

“You're gay?” his dad asks, face still unreadable, and Kurt's heart sinks in his chest.

“I guess. Or bi or whatever. Haven't figured that part out yet.”

“Oh,” his dad says again, then nods. “Um. You're – okay. Okay. I didn't – since when have you known?”

Kurt hesitates. “Not long,” he says. “I – a few months? Maybe? I'm not really sure.”

“Not sure you're gay or not sure how long you've known?” His father's face is still just kind of blank and Kurt has to stop himself from shaking apart, stomach clenching.

“Not sure how long I've known,” he says. “I am sure that I'm not straight. Really sure.”

“Okay,” his dad says. “All right. And yeah, tell your friend – um, your . . . _Blaine_ – that he can come over. That's probably a pretty good idea, actually.”

Kurt's breath stutters. “You – you're okay with it?”

Burt scratches his head. “Well, kid, I don't really get a say in it either way. I mean, I didn't really expect this, what with you dating Quinn for so long and everything? But hey, I'm just an old man who's still learning, okay? If this is who you are, than it's just who you are.”

“I – Okay. Okay.”

“Give me a while to get used to the thought, though, all right?”

“Of course, dad.” Kurt could almost cry with relief.

Burt lifts his shoulders. “I mean, I'm not saying . . . Ain't nothing wrong with being gay. I just – I mean, you _are_ sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“And you like this Blaine kid?”

“Yeah, dad. I like him a lot.”

“Good,” his dad says. “That's good, then.”

Kurt exhales, feels his muscles relaxing. “Good. Okay. I – Thanks, dad.”

“You don't – wait, were you actually afraid to tell me?”

“A little? Yeah.”

Burt looks shocked. “This doesn't change anything, okay?” he says. “I want you to know that. I want you to really understand that. I love you, Kurt. You're my son. And nothing's ever gonna change that, all right?”

Kurt hugs his dad and doesn't know why he feels like crying. It's not a bad feeling, though.

**

Blaine's nervous about dinner at Kurt's house, because he has no idea what to expect from Kurt's dad and also because he understands what a big deal this is for Kurt. Kurt, who never invites anyone over to his house, who keeps his private life so private no one at school even knew about his family situation. Blaine supposes that's still the case. Kurt told him and no one else. And now he's inviting him over there to actually meet his father.

But once he gets there and Kurt takes his hand and leads him into the house, he's greeted by a friendly-looking, smiling woman who tells him to call her Carole and says she hopes he likes lasagna.

He knew Finn was Kurt's step-brother, but he didn't really expect to be greeted by him so warmly with an excited, “Hey, good to see you dude, this is so awesome with you and Kurt!” Blaine accepts the offered high five and feels his hopes rising.

Burt Hummel is nothing like he expected and exactly how he expected him to be at the same time.

“Good to meet you, Blaine,” he says, shaking his hand, his grip firm and strong.

“Good to meet you too, sir,” Blaine says.

“Call me Burt,” he says. “The way I understand it, we might be seeing you around a lot.” He smiles.

Blaine smiles back. “I hope so.

Kurt takes his hand under the table once they're sitting down and squeezes it. Blaine squeezes back.

Within a few minutes he's deep into a conversation about football with both Burt and Finn. Kurt is talking about something with Carole and Blaine just feels weirdly at home in this house filled with mostly strangers.

It's a good evening.

**

Blaine insists on paying for their dinner on Saturday, so Kurt insists on driving them.

He picks Blaine up in his beat up old camper at half past six and drives them over to Breadstix. Blaine's actually made a reservation. Kurt finds he can't stop feeling all kinds of flustered – 'dates' with Quinn had meant driving out to their parking lot to have sex, nothing more. Every time they'd done any actual talking it had been as friends.

But tonight, Blaine sits across from him at their table, looking at him with a soft expression on his face, and Kurt is pretty sure he must be looking like an idiot with the way he just can't seem to stop smiling, but really, there's nothing at all he can do about it.

“This is a better Saturday night than I've had in a while,” Blaine says.

Kurt takes a sip from his soda. “What do you usually do with your Saturday nights? When we're not having duet practice or whatever.”

“You know. Reading and stuff.”

“Reading is good, though.”

“Yeah.” Blaine sighs. “But I just finished this book series I was really into and I don't know what to do with myself now.”

“Oh, okay, I see.” Kurt pretends to look hurt. “So that was why you agreed to this. Because you didn't have anything left to read.”

Blaine laughs. “Yes, you've found me out. That was my only reason.”

“What book series?”

“Oh, the Jasper Fforde one? Didn't you say you'd read that?”

Kurt remembers seeing that book on Blaine's coffee table, the first time he'd been over. “The first two books, yeah. Never finished the series, though.”

“I can lend you the rest of the books,” Blaine offers. “If you want.”

“That would be great,” Kurt agrees. 

Blaine gently nudges Kurt's leg with his foot under the table, which is the best thing they can do in a public place, and Kurt smiles at him.

He doesn't want the evening to end as he drives Blaine home after they've finished eating.

“We could watch a movie at my place or something,” Blaine says, apparently having similar thoughts.

Kurt turns a corner, shrugs. “Yeah, okay. I'd offer to drive us out to the old pool, but it's too cold outside. All we could do is sit in the back and there's not really anything to do back there except for the obvious, and besides, it's kind of a mess.”

Blaine looks over his shoulder into the back of the camper. “I could help you clean it up. Once it gets a little warmer outside.”

Kurt laughs out loud. “I can't ask you to help me clean up my mess.”

Blaine frowns. “Why not?”

“Just . . . because.”

“You have such a way with words.” Blaine laughs too.

“It's my mess, Blaine.”

“So? It's not a bad thing, asking for help, Kurt. And besides. I'd be happy to.”

Kurt stares out of the windshield and doesn't answer, but he can't quite hold in the smile that's slowly spreading across his face.

At Blaine's, they do really try to make it through the entirety of _The Princess Bride_ , upstairs in Blaine's room, but end up making out before the movie is half over instead.

Kurt doesn't know if he'll ever get used to this, the way Blaine kisses him. Like there is nothing more important in the world. Blaine rolls him onto his back and stretches out on top of him, hands gentle in Kurt's hair. Kurt opens his mouth for him and lets himself be kissed, held, covered.

There is nothing selfish about the way Blaine touches him, this has nothing to do with simply trading pleasure for pleasure.

Blaine gives him this, and he seems to do it gladly. He takes care of him.

And Kurt feels so good, knowing he can give Blaine something in return. He gets so much pleasure from seeing Blaine wanting something, from being able to let him know he can have it. Blaine can have it all, everything he wants. Because Kurt knows Blaine will never take too much. Blaine would never hurt him.

Blaine cares about him. And he cares about Blaine. So much.

It's different, this time.

They've taken their time with each other exactly twice, once when Kurt had been upset and once when it had been Blaine, but even then it had been desperate and kind of rough.

This time, it's soft, tender, intense in an entirely new way.

Blaine seems to have a very clear idea of what he wants, and what he does seem to want is to spread Kurt out on his bed and undress him slowly, kiss every inch of revealed skin and touch him all over with curious hands. He's gentle with Kurt and careful and slow, touches him like he's precious and looks at him like he can't believe Kurt is here, that they get to do this together.

Kurt does his best to treat him the same way, to make Blaine feel as cherished and adored as Blaine's making him feel, but he's clumsy and has no experience with taking it slow and he's sure he's messing it all up. And yet Blaine keeps going, seems happy with what they're doing.

Kurt comes first and Blaine follows soon after, and Kurt doesn't resist when Blaine pulls him into his arms afterwards and just holds him. He's sure Blaine must hear the wild beating of his heart, but he's feeling Blaine's heart beating equally hard where he's resting his hand on Blaine's chest.

He's thought of himself as experienced and knowledgeable. But all of the wild and rough sex he's ever had in his life hasn't made him feel as raw and cracked open and vulnerable as this almost innocent, slow lovemaking with Blaine has.

Once his breathing has calmed a little and his heart resumed something resembling a normal rhythm, he rolls them over so they're on their sides facing each other, their foreheads resting together. Blaine takes his hand, links their fingers, his thumb caressing the back of Kurt's hand. Kurt lets him.

“I've never cuddled before,” he admits with a crooked smile, suddenly feeling shy. “You know. After. Or anytime, really.”

Blaine kisses his nose, such a small affectionate gesture. “So,” he says with a grin. “This is sort of your first time? You're a cuddle virgin.”

“You're such a jerk,” Kurt informs him, and kisses him right on the mouth.

**

Blaine can't believe what his life has become, but the reality of it hits him every time Kurt smiles at him, across the choir room, in the hallways, in the privacy of their homes.

A lot of things are perfect, and a lot of things aren't.

Blaine is happy now that he knows what this thing is he has with Kurt – now that they've put a name to it and Blaine can be as sappy and in love as he wants to be. He loves that a lot.

He loves the way Kurt smiles at him when they meet out in the parking lot each morning. He loves the way Kurt holds his hand when they're sitting next to each other in glee club. He loves being allowed to stare, being able to just lean in for a kiss when they feel like it, or driving out in Kurt's camper to make out in the back and then cuddle.

Kurt is amazing. Kurt makes him so happy.

But sometimes Kurt doesn't text back when Blaine wants him to. Sometimes Kurt won't hold his hand in the hallways when he's afraid someone might see. Sometimes Kurt says things that hurt, and even when he apologizes, Blaine still feels the sting of it a lot of the time.

He knows Kurt is trying hard, and that it's difficult for him to let people in. Blaine likes talking about his feelings. Kurt doesn't. And Kurt has made it a point for so long to not even admit to having feelings in the first place.

It's been a long week for both of them when Blaine walks up to Kurt out in the parking lot after school one Friday. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself,” Kurt answers.

“I was thinking,” Blaine says. “We could pick up some coffee at the Lima Bean and walk around a bit? I feel like airing out my brain a little.”

Kurt smirks at him. “You want to take a walk? Are you serious?”

Blaine takes a careful step back. “Um. Yeah?”

“We're not eighty, Blaine. God, you're so . . . innocent sometimes.”

It's not the words that stab Blaine through the heart, it's Kurt's voice. “Why are you making fun of me?” he asks, hurt.

Kurt sighs. “I'm not. Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Fine. Come on. Let's go.”

“You don't have to,” Blaine says. “We – can just go home.”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, I'm – sorry. I want to. It sounds nice.”

So they go. They get their coffee, and then they walk down an empty sidewalk, hot drinks in their hands.

“This is nice, isn't it?” Blaine asks, trying to get some sort of conversation going.

“Sure, why not.” Kurt says. “It's lovely.”

Blaine is running out of ideas to cheer Kurt up, so he takes a breath and reaches for Kurt's hand – sometimes just connecting them physically in some way helps.

Kurt jerks back and glares at him. “Stop that,” he hisses, casting a look around. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I -” Blaine falters, stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “What?”

“You can't just do that.”

“Can't do what?” Blaine asks anger rising in his chest now. He's done nothing wrong. “What is _your_ problem? I was just trying to hold my boyfriend's hand.”

“Out here where anyone can see?” Kurt spits at him. “You want them to think we're just a couple of fags on a big, gay date?”

Blaine blinks at him. “Kurt, that's pretty much exactly what we are.”

“Well, we don't have to act like it all the time,” Kurt throws back at him. “Do we?”

Blaine swallows down the hurt, does his best to keep his voice from trembling. “I think you should drive me home now.”

Kurt looks at him, the furious expression draining from his face, giving way to a look of regret. “All right,” he says, and his voice still sounds too tight.

They don't talk on the way to Blaine's house.

He's already in bed that night, feeling mostly sad instead of angry now, when his phone vibrates on the nightstand.

Stretching out an arm he picks it up, checks the screen. It's Kurt calling. The anger that had dissipated over the course of the afternoon boils up in his chest again. “What?” he snaps as he answers the call.

“Hi,” Kurt says quietly.

“What do you want, Kurt?” Blaine asks.

“Um.” He can hear Kurt breathing on the other end. “I was – I was gonna ask how angry you are at me right now, but I guess I know the answer to that one.”

“Yeah, well, Kurt.” Blaine sighs loudly. “If there's nothing else -”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt interrupts him quickly. “Blaine – I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to blow up at you, I -”

“But you did,” Blaine says. “Look, if you didn't want to hang out this afternoon, or if you don't want to be seen with me, all you had to do was tell me. I had no way of knowing, okay? I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot just because -”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt repeats. “I'm not always good at . . . you know. Talking.”

Blaine almost has to laugh at that. “You don't say.”

“I wanted to hang out with you. I was just – tired. Which is not an excuse. I know that.”

“We could have done something else,” Blaine says. “Or nothing at all. If you need time to yourself you can just say so. It's not a big deal.”

Kurt is quiet for a moment. “It isn't?” His voice sounds so small, and Blaine can feel most of the anger leaving his body.

“Of course not,” he says. “We don't have to hang out all the time.”

“I -” Kurt breaks off. “I didn't want you to think – that I didn't want to.”

“Oh.” It's Blaine turn to search for his words. “I didn't – I mean – You should just tell me when you need time to yourself. I won't get abandonment issues over that.”

“I just didn't want to mess things up,” Kurt says. “So naturally I went and did exactly that.”

“You haven't messed anything up,” Blaine says.

“I haven't?”

He's almost smiling now. “Of course not. It was a fight. People have fights. It's okay.”

“All right. I – Okay. Good.”

“I'm sorry too, by the way,” Blaine says. “For trying to take your hand like that without asking. I know – I know you have good reason to be careful, and I didn't mean to -”

“It's okay,” Kurt says. “I wasn't even really mad at you. Just -”

“Tired,” Blaine says, the smile just taking over his face now.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“So -” Kurt says “I . . . think I won't be tired tomorrow afternoon? If I make sure to recharge my batteries now.”

Blaine holds the phone a little closer to his ear. “Oh yeah?”

“Maybe you have an idea what I could do with the rest of my weekend?”

He grins. “I think together we can come up with something.”


	14. Chapter 14

There's still another first for Kurt and it takes him almost a month of dating Blaine, a month of all those obnoxious glee clubbers whistling and telling them to 'get a room!' every time they hold hands in glee club, a month of going on real dates, living through Quinn's crude yet weirdly supportive comments about his new relationship, getting used to seeing Blaine around school and accepting his smiles, little touches, and quick kisses because they're boyfriends now, because it _means_ something.

It takes him almost a month, but then he finds he can't stop thinking about it anymore, really wants to try it. He's just curious. Curious enough to try it on himself one night even, but that still kind of embarrasses him. The thought of Blaine doing it to him is far less embarrassing, for some reason.

Blaine does help him clean up his camper, eventually. They drive it to the garage and clean up the interior – Kurt decides to save working on the engine and the paint for the summer. But they do a good job of cleaning up inside and it actually starts looking kind of cozy, after just a few days.

They're sitting in the back one afternoon having sandwiches, the fold-out bed turned back into a couch for once. They're out in the pool parking lot, the closest thing to a picnic they can manage in this abysmal weather, when Blaine just looks at him thoughtfully all of a sudden.

“Did you know I didn't actually like sex before I met you?”

Kurt tilts his head at him. They've been having sex everywhere as often as they could; he thinks Blaine's actually hornier than he is most of the time and he pretty much constantly wants to have sex with Blaine. “Really?”

Blaine nods. “I mean, I really liked it by myself. I did masturbate pretty much every day, well at night mostly, and it felt really good.”

Kurt almost chokes on his bite of sandwich, coughs, takes a long drink of water. “Blaine, please.” It shocks him sometimes to think he'd really thought of Blaine as the innocent one in this relationship. He's no blushing virgin by any means, but with the way Blaine talks about sex and jerking off and all that so openly makes Kurt feel like an innocent little baby penguin sometimes.

“What? Masturbation is perfectly normal. Healthy, even. I mean, sometimes I didn't feel like it for days, and then I did it twice a day sometimes. Well, before we started having sex so much.”

Kurt's sure his face is tomato red at this point. “Irrelevant. Carry on with your story, please.”

“Right. Uh, anyway. I never had a problem, doing it by myself, but every time I did it with Tina, it was just suddenly really difficult for me.”

“Difficult?”

Blaine blushes a little at this point too. “It's – it was actually one of the reasons she broke up with me? Like, not _the_ reason. But she kind of caught on to the fact that I wasn't really into touching her all that much.”

“Oh.”

“There was this one afternoon when we were upstairs in my room and I knew she really wanted to have sex, and I was kind of used to just going along with it, you know? I mean, we were dating, and I knew she liked it, and I mean, who doesn't like orgasms? So, yeah, I went along with it. It took me a while, sometimes, but it usually worked. But that afternoon I just couldn't.”

“Couldn't . . .”

“It really freaked me out,” Blaine admits. “Because I'd been thinking about what it all meant for a while, and it was just one more clue in a series of clues. We tried a whole bunch of things, you know, different ways of stimulation, and it just didn't work.”

“You mean -” Kurt gestures at his own crotch. “You couldn't -”

“Couldn't get aroused. Well, couldn't _maintain_ an erection, actually,” Blaine says, and Kurt throws his hands up, rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh for _fuck's sake_ , Blaine. Do you have to say it like that?”

“Like what? That's what happened.”

“It sounds _weird_ when you say it like that.”

“Huh. What would you call it?”

Kurt shrugs. He thinks maybe he should feel jealousy. But he doesn't, not really. He doesn't like to think about Blaine having sex with anyone else, but that thing with Tina is in the past and also, he does feel a little smug, as wrong as that may be. He can get Blaine hard with just a kiss, with just a few words whispered in his ear. It feels good, knowing that. “So that's how you figured out you were gay?”

“No,” Blaine says. “I considered a number of possibilities. It wasn't until I started having sex with you that it all fell into place for me.”

“Oh.”

“It just made sense, dating Tina, you know? We were already friends and everyone else was dating and I really wanted to be someone's boyfriend too. I just really wanted that. And then one afternoon sophomore year she was over at my house and we were just hanging out, and suddenly she leans in and kisses me. And it just kind of went on from there. I never questioned it.”

Kurt reaches across the short distance and takes Blaine's hand in his. “Yeah, that sounds -” He breaks off, shakes his head. “Well, it sounds nothing like my story, but I also think I just kind of . . . went with things? Like – you know Brittany was actually my first girlfriend? Or at least I had my first time with her.”

Blaine's eyes widen. “Brittany Pierce? Glee club Brittany? _Our_ Brittany?”

“Yeah. I was – I was just this weird-looking little sophomore, you know, kind of your typical, run of the mill victim.”

“I don't think you were -”

“Anyway,” Kurt quickly interrupts. “One day she just walks up to me and propositions me. Completely out of the blue. Something about having slept with almost everyone in the school and wanting to have a perfect record.”

“And you said yes.”

“I mean. I was getting thrown into dumpsters every day. I figured dating a cheerleader might increase my coolness factor by about three hundred percent.”

“Did it?”

Kurt shrugs. “Not really? I slept with her a few times and we held hands in the hallways and no one bothered me during that time. But then she got bored and moved on and it all went back to normal. Until I went to hide out under the bleachers one day toward the end of sophomore year and Quinn was there. We sort of became friends.”

“And you started dating her.”

“Not at first. And we never really dated, we just – well. You know.”

Blaine nods, looks a little uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“I just did what I thought I had to do, I guess. I went to parties with her until we both figured out it wasn't our thing. I hooked up with girls, but I wasn't really into it. And then it kind of happened with Quinn and just kept happening and I went with it because she knew what to do and it helped take my mind off things.”

“That makes sense,” Blaine says, his voice quiet, his hand gripping Kurt's almost uncomfortably tight.

Kurt leans in and kisses him, long and slow and soft. “You know I'm not just taking my mind off things with you, right? I want this. With you.”

Blaine takes Kurt's face between his hands and pulls him in for a longer, more desperate kiss instead of answering with words.

They go back to Blaine's place after their picnic, because it's just still too cold to spend too much time sitting out there for too long.

Kurt thinks, and thinks, and when they find Blaine's house empty once again and make their way upstairs to Blaine's room, he decides he's been thinking for long enough.

Blaine undresses him, and he undresses Blaine, and he lets Blaine push him onto his back on the bed. He pulls Blaine on top of him, captures his lips in a long kiss, gathers all of his courage.

“Blaine,” he says. “Will you fuck me?”

Blaine pulls back, stares down at him, uncertain but not quite able to hide his excitement. “Wait. Are you sure?”

Kurt nods a little shakily. “Yes.”

It feels . . . it feels . . . different. New. Weird, at first, and he's not entirely sure he likes it when Blaine's fingers probe their way inside of him, stretching him to make room for Blaine's dick which is decidedly thicker than the two fingers Kurt had put inside himself at home that one night.

He thinks he might just tell Blaine to stop, that he's made a mistake asking for this, that they should do something else instead, when Blaine – hits a spot, somewhere inside. It feels strange but good, and Kurt bites his lip and closes his eyes and does his best to relax.

And slowly, the weird feeling gives way to arousal, his breath coming faster. Blaine works him open and Kurt rocks his hips up to get his fingers deeper. His cock, which had started to go soft, grows hard again, starts rising up off his belly and he moans as Blaine pulls his fingers out.

“Still sure?” Blaine asks, breathless himself.

“Get a move on,” Kurt says impatiently, and Blaine laughs.

It all takes so fucking long, the sound of the condom wrapper tearing, Blaine rolling the thing down over his cock, coating himself in a generous layer of lube and Kurt squirms on the rumpled sheets.

But then Blaine spreads Kurt's thighs apart, settles between them, and starts pushing in.

It hurts and Kurt pants and whimpers and screws his eyes shut, but he digs his nails into Blaine's shoulders, his feet into Blaine's back and moans at him to _keep going keep going_ every time Blaine stops or tries pulling out again.

It's slow and it's not entirely pleasant, but Kurt wants this, and finally, Blaine is all the way in and they look at each other, and Kurt knows his face is read and his hair clinging to his temples all sweaty and disheveled, but they're doing this.

“Move,” he says.

“You're so beautiful,” Blaine responds.

Kurt wants to tell him he's beautiful too, he wants to tell him so many things. But all he can do is crane his neck to reach his mouth and kiss him, and he hopes Blaine understands.

Blaine moves, slow and careful at first, but then faster, harder, and Kurt clings to him and can't believe how good it feels, how fucking much he wants this, he feels overwhelmed and hot everywhere and his whole body is trembling with need, trying to get Blaine deeper inside, closer, harder, faster, more more more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh fuck oh god oh fuck I can't – _Blaine_ -”

“Yes,” Blaine breathes, and Kurt arches up, mouth falling open as his body cramps up, and the whole world explodes into a shock wave of blinding, all-consuming, white-hot bliss.

Blaine's hips snap forward again again again fucking him through the orgasm and into the aftershocks and he just keeps going, and it's almost too much, too much, but then Blaine thrusts in so hard, so deep, and holds it there, eyes squeezing shut and body going rigid, and his face almost looks like he's in pain as he comes with a broken-sounding moan, jerking his hips helplessly as he rides it out inside of Kurt.

They just kind of lie there all fucked out and blissed out and exhausted next to each other, limbs tangled, breathing hard, their skin sticky and sweaty and Kurt feels sore and tender where Blaine was inside him.

He likes the feeling.

“That,” he says, once he regains the powers of speech. “Was the best fucking thing we have ever done.”

Blaine nods. “Yeah. I think I have to agree.”

**

They go on a double date with Mike and Tina, which Kurt thinks is weird at first, but turns out to be kind of fun.

When Mercedes breaks up with Shane she actually comes to Kurt to talk with him about how it was at least a little bit because of her feelings for Sam and how bad she feels about it. He panics and just freaks the fuck out internally, but he gets through the conversation and Mercedes thanks him for listening and he kind of sort of thinks he's maybe just made a new real friend.

Dating Blaine means having a lot of new friends, all of a sudden. Or maybe that has nothing to do with dating Blaine at all. The glee club just sorts of swallows people up like that, like they were always part of this weird little group of weirdos.

Kurt discovers that he doesn't mind being a part of this disorganized, messy tangle of completely insane idiots with all their in-fighting and constant need to express themselves and talk about their feelings and _sing_ about their feelings as if that's perfectly normal.

It's just a little confusing, how the different parts of his life suddenly start mixing. He's not sure how that happened.

But Quinn comes over to his house more often. She doesn't judge him for his new friends, although she doesn't really want anything to do with them either. He sees her and Mercedes talking in the hallway one day between classes and it looks friendly enough, and he's glad. Not that he thinks Quinn will rejoin the glee club or try to make friends here with what's left of their senior year at this point. But she seems more mellow, somehow, since she's broken things off with Richard the Dick. He makes a point of spending more time with her, and he just wants her to be okay.

Another side effect is Rachel starting to ask him questions about Finn _all the time_. It gets even worse when Finn starts asking questions about Rachel in return, and then Kurt learns he's broken up with his girlfriend. “Listen,” he tells Rachel one day. “I'm not your spy or your messenger. If you want to be with Finn, go talk to him yourself.”

She doesn't speak with him for days after that (which is kind of a relief), but then she’s suddenly hanging out in his living room on the couch with Finn when he gets home after dropping Blaine off, and this is kind of the opposite of what he wanted, but whatever. As long as they're occupied with each other, maybe they'll leave him alone.

Blaine is amazing. He's just amazing.

Kurt still isn't entirely sure sometimes how comfortable he is having someone know him this well, but Blaine is so patient with him. So wonderful.

Kurt tries his best to be good to him in return, but he knows he fails at it a lot of the time. Blaine stays with him regardless. Like when Kurt's in a ratty mood because first his car breaks down and then Rachel tries to bully him into a duet in glee club and when he gets home Finn spills coffee all over him. He snaps at Blaine when he picks him up for a date and they have their second big fight. Bigger than the first one. And they get through it.

“You're just a really, genuinely nice person,” he tells Blaine over coffee one afternoon in late spring when they're having an impromptu date in Kurt's kitchen thanks to a canceled superhero club meeting. “Sometimes I don't understand why you don't just dump my ass when I'm being an idiot.”

“Aww, don't say that.” Blaine grins at him. “I like your ass!”

Kurt kicks him under the table. “You're so fucking weird.”

“Well,” Blaine says. “That's why you love me.”

They both blush and go quiet after that before quickly changing the topic, but, Kurt thinks to himself, _yes. I actually kind of do_.

He doesn't say it yet. But soon. He knows he will. Even if it scares him. Blaine is worth the fear, and a whole lot more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on Tumblr [here](http://alianne.tumblr.com/post/153948925481/fic-across-an-empty-land) and extra art [here.](http://bluecloudsupabove.tumblr.com/post/153923830064/art-for-across-an-empty-land-by-alianne)


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